Wedding Shower
by Basmathgirl
Summary: The Doctor and Donna are invited to Martha's wedding, but there seems to be a misunderstanding or two!
1. Chapter 1

**Warning:** contains bare flesh, and a swear word.

**Summary:** the Doctor and Donna are invited to Martha's wedding, but there's a misunderstanding.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters, but I do possess a new shower mat.

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><p><strong>Wedding Shower<strong>

**Part 1**

.

"Why do you think this happened?" she asked as she accosted him by the TARDIS doors. "It's horrendous!"

"It's just a wedding, Donna! No need to get upset," he tried to calm her.

"Exactly! And in a place like this," she griped. "It's not fair!"

He swept his gaze over the country house hotel. "Looks fine to me. I don't see what the problem is. Anyone would think something bad is going to happen," he commented.

"Now you've done it! You've jinxed the whole thing now. I'll probably end up married to an invading Cyborg," she huffed.

"Donna! I can't see why you would," he teased her. "You haven't got a wedding dress for a start."

"Yeah, but I've probably got the bridesmaid dress from hell, knowing my luck!" She turned her beady gaze on him to implore him, "If I look a sight kill me instantly, please? Or at least knock me out."

He chuckled. "Donna, you'll look amazing; you know you will," he consoled her.

"An amazing what has yet to be seen," she gave him a faint smile in reply. "Now come on, let's see what food this place can rustle up."

"Now you're talking!" he brightly answered. "I'm starving!"

"Who'd have guessed? What a coincidence," she remarked, as he followed the signs that headed towards the restaurant.

* * *

><p>"What are you doing up here?" she demanded as she opened her hotel room door to the doctor.<p>

"I was lonely. I thought I'd come and see what you were up to," he replied.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm dressed in a dressing gown and not much else, holding a towel. Now let me see…," she tapped playfully on her lip. "What could I be doing next? Have you worked it out yet, Sherlock?"

"Alright!" he answered testily. "I can see you were about to have a shower; no need to be sarky."

"Give that boy a goldfish!" she laughed at his pout. "Now why don't you tell me the real reason you've sloped up here?"

"Well…," he sheepishly shrugged; and suddenly sniffed the air like a bloodhound. "Quick! Martha is coming!"

Before Donna could answer in any way, he grasped her around the waist and pulled her into her room, and shut the door. Within seconds there was a knock on Donna's door, making the Doctor panic and jump to the side. He gestured to her to keep quiet about him and that he'd hide in the bathroom. Donna gestured back that he had a screw loose.

"Hello Martha!" Donna brightly greeted her friend. "What can I do for you?"

Martha fidgeted with her hands before replying with the question, "Can I have a quick word please, Donna?"

"Of course you can," Donna replied, opening the door wide to let her in. "You'll have to forgive me being dressed in next to nothing, but I was about to have a shower," she explained, sweeping a hand down to indicate her state of undress.

"I promise not to be long," Martha told her. "Why don't you go and have your shower, and I can sit and talk to you while you do so."

"Oh… but…," Donna blustered, hoping the Doctor had hidden himself. She found herself being pushed into the bathroom and shut her eyes as she waited for Martha to accuse her of having him in her room.

"The bathrooms are nice, aren't they?" Martha asked instead.

Donna took in a relieved breath. "Very nice," she agreed. "Perhaps I'll have my shower later, once I've figured out how to work the taps. They look a bit antiquated to me."

"I'll help you," Martha offered to Donna's horror; leaning through the shower curtain to turn the tap on. There was a loud swish of water as the shower sprung into life. "There you go!"

Donna eyed the closed shower curtain with concern. "I'll just let the water warm up if you don't mind. So what did you want to talk to me about?" she asked as nonchalantly as possible.

Martha assumed Donna was embarrassed to undress in front of her. "I'm a doctor remember, Donna. I have seen it all before," she reasoned. "Just step into the shower when you want to."

She blushed a deep crimson. "Maybe, but you haven't seen all of me and I'd like to keep it that way," she mumbled.

Martha laughed. "You pretend to be such a woman of the world and yet you can't shower in front of a doctor!" she giggled.

Donna smiled. "Yeah, something like that," she agreed.

"Go on," Martha encouraged. "You're wasting water; and I won't look." She turned her face away from Donna, giving her some privacy and forcing her to make a decision.

Donna slid the dressing gown off, clasped her hand over her bare breasts and pulled back the shower curtain. How she managed to hold in a screech of laughter when she was faced with the Doctor looking like a drowned rat she would never know. His eyebrows shot up into his bedraggled hairline as she mouthed at him 'Don't get any ideas, Spaceman!' "I'm in, Martha!" she called out.

"Good!" Martha called back and shuffled closer to the shower, making herself comfortable on the toilet seat lid. "This makes this a bit easier for me, actually. Do you know if the Doctor ever thinks about me?"

Donna raised an eyebrow in question at him. He shook his head and tried to hand her the soap. She glanced down at her hands, and mouthed, 'I can't!' So he motioned for her to swivel round. "As far as I know he doesn't," she replied, trying to hide the shock in response to him lathering up her back. "Why?"

"I just wondered," Martha faintly answered. "That was a daft time in my life."

"Not exactly daft," Donna consoled her. "And now your life is brilliant." She gasped as the Doctor tugged her shoulders back towards him, bringing her directly under the showerhead. There was a cold splodge of something on top of her head, and then his nimble fingers starting to massage in the shampoo he'd applied. At least playing with her hair would keep him happy for a few minutes, she reasoned.

Martha gave a happy sigh. "Yes, it is!" she said with feeling. "I just sometimes wonder… I wish…"

"Are you having cold feet, Martha Jones?" Donna teased. "Because it sounds like it!" The feel of the Doctor caressing her scalp was glorious, but she wasn't going to tell him that in a hurry.

Martha laughed delightedly in reply. "No; I just wonder if I went for the first man that looked at me," she admitted.

"If I had a bloke that looked at _me_ in that way I'd be more than happy!" Donna told her truthfully. "He really does love you, Martha; so stop worrying!"

"Is that what I'm doing? Is this normal?" Martha wondered.

"Completely normal," Donna confirmed, revelling in the Doctor running his fingers through her now thoroughly clean hair. "It's not called pre-wedding nerves for nothing!"

"Thank you, Donna. I knew there was a reason I'd kept you as a friend," Martha chuckled.

"Yes, so that I can look like a dog's dinner while you look beautiful in comparison. But I won't hold it against you," Donna mockingly griped. She could feel the Doctor holding in his laughter behind her. "Can you pass me a towel before you go?"

"Of course!" Martha held up a towel to Donna's blindly seeking hand. "I'll leave you to finish in here, and I'll meet you downstairs later." There was the sound of her opening the bathroom door. "Bye!"

"Bye!" Donna replied as the Doctor shut off the water. They stood stock still, holding their breath until the outer door could be heard to close. "Well… that was a new experience," Donna remarked as she wrapped the towel around herself. "Thanks for the helping hand," she said as she turned to face him. "Bloody hell you look wet!"

"Thanks for telling me; I'd have never known otherwise," he replied sarcastically.

"Watch it, Sunshine, if you want me to pass you a towel," she growled at him. She pressed a hand to his cheek, softly saying, "Sorry."

He smirked. "It had to happen eventually, I suppose," he answered, accepting a small towel to wipe his face. "I assume we're not going to tell anyone about this?"

"Good grief, no!" she agreed. She held a large towel up for him, "Come on then, get your kit off."

"What?" he exclaimed in shock. "I can't do that!"

"You can't squelch about in wet clothes, either, so get them off," she ordered him. "You'll chafe otherwise."

He looked down at himself, back at her, and began to unfasten his jacket. "If you make one snide remark…!" he warned her.

She held the towel up until he'd divested himself of his underwear, and handed it over so that he could cover himself up with it. Then they worked together to wring his clothing out. "I must admit I never thought I'd have my hands on your shirt like this," she teased him as they finished their task. "Could have been worse; at least you spared me your underwear."

"When I show a girl a good time it's memorable," he grinned at her.

"It's certainly that!" she agreed as she headed out into the room to search the wardrobe for the ironing board and iron. "Do you want to risk putting your trousers in the Corby trouser press?"

"Why not?" he replied with a grin. "If all else fails I can sneak out to the TARDIS for a change of clothing."

"You still could," she commented; and sat on the bed to start to comb through her hair. She caught him eyeing her with a certain gleam. "Did you want to do this bit?"

He bounded across to her. "Yes please!" he enthused. He coughed as he caught himself. "I mean, if I may?" he amended.

She readily handed him the comb and sat back, letting him drag the comb through her long hair. "I might use this in future to encourage you to do stuff," she told him.

His concentration was on his task as he answered, "Do you think it'd work? I might force you to let me do this."

"You just try it, mate!" she laughed. She patted his leg, "No, I think this arrangement could work quite well for us." A thought struck her. "Doctor? Why did you hide from Martha?"

He continued stroking and combing her hair. "I erm… it's not allowed, is it, to see her? So I ducked in here," he answered with a slight sniff.

"That's the groom, you prawn!" she laughed with glee. "You could have easily told her you were here. She'd have understood."

"Oh yeah!" he slowly replied, and gave a sheepish laugh. "I've gone and made it look even worse now, haven't I?"

"No, of course not," she told him sarcastically. "You've only turned this into an episode of a bad comedy show; like Whoops There Go My Trousers!"

"I think it's quite a good one!" he defended himself. "I mean this…not that fictitious play you mentioned."

She could almost feel his blush radiate towards her. "As long as it doesn't turn into a naff porn film we'll be alright," she remarked. "Or have you secretly come up to fix my plumbing?"

"Donna!" he gasped in shock. "The things you come out with. You'll corrupt me at this rate."

"Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Timeboy." She turned on the bed to regard him. "You're not brainwashing me with your fingers as you do that, are you?" she cautiously asked.

He roared with laughter. "Oh definitely! I'm brainwashing you into making me tea for the rest of your life," he told her.

"As long as I know," she replied and grinned at him. "Have you come up with an escape plan yet?"

"Do I need one?" he asked in puzzlement. "We're in a hotel room, not a jail cell here, Donna."

"I know. But we're not exactly fully clothed, so things could get awkward if you get caught in here," she pointed out.

He shrugged. "It only matters if we let it. I for one have nothing to hide."

"Unless you count all that exposed pale skin," she prodded his chest.

"Watch it you! You're just as pale as me, if not paler!" he huffed in mock annoyance. "I may have to punish you if you continue to take the mick."

"Oh yeah? As if seeing your legs isn't punishment enough," she giggled.

He contemplated his legs. "What's wrong with my legs? These are a very fine pair of legs for you to admire," he retorted.

"I'd admire them more if they were on George Clooney," she pondered.

He made a sound of annoyance at her. "You never appreciate what's right under your nose!" he moaned.

She soothed her hand down his arm. "I do appreciate you!" she insisted. Seeing his disbelief, she added, "Not many men would have coped with sharing a shower with me like that. You handled yourself very well… I mean… you didn't handle yourself… Oh bugger! I'm digging a hole here; help me out!"

He collapsed on the bed in a giggling fit. "I'm frightened to lay a finger on you!" he eventually managed to say. "Shall I just hand you a shovel?"

"Like I need to dig a bigger hole for myself! Thanks, Spaceman!" she scowled at him. "And on that note I'd better get dressed."

She made a movement to stand up but he grabbed her arm to halt her progress. "Don't go!" he pleaded. "I thought we were being towel buddies."

She smiled at his daftness. "All right; I'll stay like this. But if anyone catches us _you_ have to do the explaining."

"I can do that," he beamed happily at her. "Can we order something from room service while we wait for my clothes to dry?"

"You are such a big kid!" she swatted at his arm. "Go on then; I'm sure Martha won't mind."

He didn't need second telling before he'd picked up the receiver of the phone by the bed to order them something to eat. Then they settled back on the pillows to watch the television while they waited for the food to arrive. Within ten minutes there was a soft rap on the door. "Yay!" he squealed as he jumped off the bed and made for the door.

"Donna, when were you going to…," Martha began to ask before noticing the Doctor standing in just a towel before her.

"Ah! Hello Martha," he answered as matter-of-factly as he could. "How lovely to see you."

"What…?" she peered round him at Donna lying on the bed. "You…? Since when…?"

"Hello Martha!" Donna called out. "We were just about to have something to eat. Did you want something with us?"

"But you're…! And you…," she spluttered in confusion as she pointed her index finger at the pair of them.

Donna got up off the bed and sauntered over to stand next to the Doctor. "Are you coming in or what? You're letting the cold air in."

Martha looked between them. "How long…? Why didn't you say?" she stammered out.

The Doctor looked down at Donna. "This is quite normal. Did we need to tell you?" he raised a quizzical eyebrow at her. He opened the door wider in invitation. "Are you coming in to join us?"

Martha made a high pitched squeak. "No, I've got to… erm… thingy. And then I have to… almost immediately."

The Doctor gave her a pitiful look. "Are you sure? You're missing out on something good you know? I promise we don't bite."

His answer was a horror struck look from Martha as she clasped her throat, turned tail, and ran down the corridor.

"What did I say?" he asked Donna as he watched the retreating figure. "Is the thought of sharing food with us that bad?"

"Nothing that looks suspicious in the slightest! Who would turn down the offer to join two people who are clearly wearing next to nothing, you dimnoid?" she ribbed him.

"Oh. Oh!" he blushed in realisation, and swiped his hand down over his stubble. "This is a bit incriminating."

"You think?" Donna retorted. "So much for your explanation."

"But you mentioned food!" he protested. "Why didn't she take notice of that?"

"She was obviously too busy noticing your naked chest, or those legs you were boasting about earlier." She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly, "Are you sure you don't write TV scripts?"

"Not anymore," he quipped, hugging her back. "How do we deny 'us' this time?"

"I've given up bothering. The circumstantial evidence seems to be building against us," she said.

"In that case, will you be my date to this wedding, Ms Noble?" he asked.

"Since you've asked so nicely, why not, Dr Noble?" she replied with a smirk.

"It's a date," he confirmed.

"A date-date," she agreed. "And I think I can hear room service on its way."

His face lit up with delight as he released her to open the door again. As she let him finish up what she didn't eat she couldn't help thinking he was such a big kid; but at least he was apparently her big kid now.

.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning:** contains a mild swear word or two... and Jack!

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><p><strong>Part 2<strong>

.

Donna woke to find strong arms hugging her. She shifted to stretch a bit, and the owner of the arms grumbled, "What you doing?" as his arms tightened around her.

She chuckled lightly at his sleepy voice. "You still here, Spaceman? I thought you would have run for the hills by now," she teased, until she felt his finger tracing a pattern on her back. Wriggling as he hit a ticklish spot, she griped, "What _are_ you doing?"

The Doctor gave a soft sigh. "I'm playing with your freckles. Did you know you have two galaxies overlapping here?"

"No! Who'd have thought?" she gasped in mock horror. "Why are you really still up here with me? Who are you hiding from?" She turned over to face him. "It's Jack, isn't it?"

"Just for the record, I like cuddling with you like this; but yes… yes you're right," he hesitantly admitted.

"You prawn!" She reached out and hugged him. "I'll protect you."

"Would that be just you and your towel?" he grinned.

"Yep! We're the Dynamic Duo," she laughed. "We'd better go and get some breakfast, and then I'll be busy organising Martha. It's all go as Supertemp - the Bridesmaid Version!" she smirked at him. "I won't be able to protect you for a few hours unless you want to hide in the shower from the bride and everyone again."

"I'll pass for now," he gave her a small shrug. "I might go and deal with that circuit in the TARDIS."

"Oh yeah?" she asked with disbelief. "That one over by the whatdoyoumacallit that was doing that thing? I know the one."

"I knew you'd understand," he chuckled. "Would you mind if I parked her in here?"

"Of course not," she readily agreed. "You can hide in here for as long as you like."

His eyes practically twinkled at her. "Were you a witch in a former life?" he gently asked, trying to hide his amusement.

"It's called a lucky guess based on women's intuition, Timeboy; and don't you forget it!" she pointed out. "Or the fact you're as transparent as tissue paper; that could be it."

"You know me too well, Donna Noble, but you won't get yourself credit for it," he told her, and gave her a squeeze. "Do you fancy staying with me here?"

"Yes, but I don't think Martha will be too happy if I turn up to her wedding still dressed in a towel. Jack might approve though," she remarked, and laughed when he bristled at Jack's name. She tenderly kissed his cheek. "Promise me you'll behave and turn up to the wedding."

He kissed her cheek in return. "I promise. Now let's get you fed and watered," he said, playfully patting her bottom.

"You cheeky sod!" she exclaimed. "As if you need to use me as your excuse to eat everything under the sun," she scoffed.

He pretended to look hurt. "And I was going to let you press my suit before I wear it," he tried to tell her sulkily; but laughed loudly when she socked him with a pillow.

~o~

"You look lovely, Donna!" Francine crooned at her, as she smoothed the bridesmaid's dress down over her body. "Purple really is your colour."

"Are you sure?" Donna swept a sideways glance at herself in the mirror. The dress was a simple column design that bared her shoulders and uplifted her bust. "I don't look like a wrapped piece of ham?"

"No," Francine gently confirmed. "Just lovely! What do you think of my daughters?" she asked proudly.

Donna eyed Martha and Tish again; both looking absolutely beautiful in their similarly designed dresses. Tish wore purple too, but Martha was wrapped in ivory silk. "So gorgeous I'd want to trip them up!" she joked. "How did you manage to produce such wonderful daughters?"

"It was hard work, but they were worth it," Francine preened proudly. "You might get a daughter of your own one day."

Donna caught a quick glance from Martha. "I can't see that happening in the future. I've got to capture a potential father first," she explained.

"But I thought…," Francine had a questioning expression on her face as she faltered.

"It takes more than thought," Donna replied, and then changed the subject onto the wedding flowers.

~o~

The Doctor made his way into the wedding room, in plenty of time which was unusual for him. Donna would be proud he decided. He was even more relieved to see that Jack hadn't turned up yet in the room; that would save him some further embarrassment. He really hoped Martha hadn't said anything to him. Saying hello to a couple of people he didn't know from Adam, he chose a decent spot and sat himself down. Thank goodness Donna had asked him to bag a seat for her during the service; he didn't think he could have coped sitting alone during all of it.

A pair of hands suddenly clapped themselves down on his shoulders, making him almost jump out of his skin. "Hi Doc!" boomed Jack's voice. "You're a bit skittish!"

"Jack!" he exclaimed, and allowed a brief hug over the top of the chair he'd been sitting on. "Good to see you!" He also successively dodged Jack making a grab for his backside. He mentally added a point to his scoreboard.

"Do you have a date for the wedding?" Jack asked with a slight gleam.

The Doctor blushed. "Only with Donna," he half mumbled, caught unawares.

"If that's the way things are, you won't mind me showing Donna some interest," Jack stated, adjusting his collar.

The Doctor glared at him. "I think that decision is up to Donna, don't you?" he answered tartly.

Jack went to reply, but they were both distracted by some woman loudly whispering, "She's here!" The Wedding March started up almost immediately, and both men turned their attention to the bridal procession.

The sight of Martha as she progressed down the aisle was breath-taking; at least the Doctor thought she was until he caught sight of Donna. As she beamed at him from behind Martha he felt his hearts skip a beat. She had never looked so lovely.

Donna smiled vaguely at everyone until she caught sight of the Doctor waiting expectantly for her, and she burst into a wide smile in gratitude. Finally she had an ally against all those 'always the bridesmaid and never the bride' jibes that had been banded in her direction. She waited until the Officiant signalled for her to sit down and the Doctor took her hand to guide her into the seat next to him. They exchanged happy hellos before watching the ceremony with keen interest.

Martha looked truly beautiful as she made her vows to Mickey; they looked a perfect match as they gazed lovingly at each other. Donna felt a wistful tear start to fall from her eyes and the Doctor was there like a shot, dabbing it away with a fresh hankie. They shared silent thanks this time, and he held her hand to give moral support.

Posing for the photos was a slight bind as the photographer was terribly finicky, though his attention to detail didn't annoy Donna as much as it would have done at one time. "You'll be next," Tish had whispered to her at one point.

"Don't be daft," she had scoffed back. "I have other plans now." That was the only problem turning up at a wedding unmarried; everyone had this compulsion to get you to join the Married Club.

~o~

"Donna! Donna! Where are you?" a frail old lady started calling out from across the hall.

"Oh heck! That's Martha's Great Aunt Maud on the hunt for me again," Donna groaned, and dipped behind the Doctor. "Make sure she can't see me, please!"

"Why? What's the problem?" he asked with a laugh. "Is she trying to get you to join her happy band of pensioners?"

"It's worse than that!" Donna griped. "She keeps introducing me to every bloke she's ever known in some vain hope they'll offer to marry me."

"Why wouldn't they want to marry you?" he asked, peering behind at her.

"That is not the point; though thanks for the heads up. I can't be doing with all this matchmaking right now," she explained.

"Why didn't you just say you were with me?" he suggested, clearly puzzled that she hadn't.

"Francine explained who you were," she replied. "Let's just say that you aren't high up on her list of possibles."

"Ah," he answered knowingly. "But still; you could have insisted!"

She peeped out from around his waist. "I'll tell you what; if you hide me and get me away from here I'll tell her we're married. How does that sound?"

He scrunched his face up in thought. "I dunno. That one has backfired on us before…"

"Just get me out of here!" she hissed at him.

He began to calmly back them out towards the edge of the hall and then out the door. "You do realise this looks ridiculous, don't you?" he whispered back at her.

"And that's different from our usual escapades because…?" she whispered back sarcastically.

"Well, we're not normally at someone we know's wedding, and we're not normally hiding from little old ladies, but other than that I'd say it has a smidge of familiarity to it," he replied with a hint of a smile in is voice.

She took the opportunity to pull herself up to her full height, and immediately rubbed her back, relieved when he took over the task for her. "True," she agreed. "Except everyone is normally trying to marry me off to you rather than avoid you."

"What exactly did she have against me?" he petulantly asked, still kneading the flesh at the base of her spine.

"Something about you being a bad influence, from what I can tell. Francine didn't jump to your defence, I noticed. Have you upset her or something?" she asked conversationally.

He patted her back to show he had finished. "Who me? Nah! I'm too lovable." He took hold of her hand. "Where do you fancy hiding?"

"Erm… let's start near the champagne," she suggested, and tugged on his hand. "And if you are good I'll let you explain what some engine does."

"You are far too kind to me," he retorted sarcastically.

"Alright, I'll go find Jack instead," she offered.

He sighed resignedly. "Come on, let's grab ourselves a drink."

They made their way out into a decidedly darkened corridor. "I don't remember it being this dark," Donna told him in hushed tones.

"That's because it wasn't." He pulled her protectively nearer to him. "This looks like someone deliberately…," he began to say when large hands pushed them from the side, causing them to lose their footing.

"Doctor! Watch out!" she shrieked as they fell backwards into what turned out to be a cupboard. A door was slammed shut on them.

"Donna! You can let go of my throat now!" he wheezed out, before she unblocked his airways and he took a deep breath. "Thanks," he quickly added in gratitude.

"Are you thanking me for breaking your fall?" she asked from below him. "Or for providing a soft cushion while we're down here?"

He gazed down at her in the half-light. "A bit of both, to be honest. You _do_ make a very fine floor cushion, but I can tell you won't be offering yourself out for that… Not that I'm suggesting you tend to offer yourself out, or that..," he blustered on.

"Shut up, Timeboy!" she reprimanded him. "Or I'll keep mentioning your need to prod me in unwanted places."

"Unwanted places? Do you mean bodily or situation wise?" he asked with a slight grin.

"I'll let you decide that one; but it's not all good," she replied.

"So some of it _is_ good then? That's nice to know," he smirked.

She swatted his arm as hard as she could. "You'll get a punch on the nose if you continue to be this saucy with me!" She tried to remain annoyed with him, but their ludicrous situation was getting to her so she began to laugh. "You couldn't resist getting up close and personal with me again, huh?"

"Yep! I seem to have fallen for you," he quipped. "Must be due to you flashing your naked body at me last night."

"I did not! That was a complete coincidence," she protested. "And don't pretend I had any effect on you."

"How do you know if you did or not…? I'm not completely made of stone you know," he retorted.

"How do I know?" she snorted at him. "Aroused men don't start washing your hair; they try to do other things."

"What other things? And how many times have you been caught in a shower like that?" he demanded.

"Well obviously it happened every Saturday night…," she teased. "Once, Dumbo, just the once! But I wasn't talking about that bit. I meant being in a shower with a man; and no, don't look at me like that! I don't tend to do that sort of thing so you should know better than to ask. But… you have to admit…"

"I have to admit what? What are you getting at?" he asked in confusion.

"You weren't… responding," she hesitantly answered.

"I thought that was the whole point; you didn't want me to say anything while Martha was in the room. Or did I get it wrong again?" he asked.

She giggled and covered her eyes in amusement. "You are such a dimnoid at times!" she told him. "Only you could stand with a naked woman and not see that would be awkward."

"That is so _not_ true!" he defended himself.

"Don't get me wrong," she tried to sooth his anger. "I'm glad you're that way; I'd have never stepped into the shower if I thought you'd behave any other way. Though I confess I was mortified you saw me in the buff."

"You covered yourself up with your hands," he reasoned. "It wasn't as if you were flaunting yourself, was it?"

"How much did you actually notice?" she asked. "'Cos my hands aren't that big."

"I erm… I was looking at your hair most of the time and… and… I know you wouldn't…," he spluttered.

"Do you ever feel…? No, I shouldn't ask that; it's rude of me," she halted her question hastily. "I suppose we should be considering getting out of here," she suggested, deliberately changing the subject and tried to sit up.

"Donna, you know you can ask me anything you like; you know that, surely?" he reminded her as he assisted her. Several objects in the cupboard haltered their progress.

They were half off the floor, her arms around his neck, "I know; but that doesn't mean I should. I do like that aftershave on you by the way," she told him.

"I should hope you would!" he grinned at her. "You bought it for me."

"Is that the one?" she asked, leaning in to smell his throat.

At that precise moment the door thrust open and Martha stood gawping at the two of them entwined together. "Are you two at it again? Thank goodness I didn't catch you naked this time!" she shrieked.

They scuffled apart, falling out of the cupboard. "It's not what it looks like…," the Doctor began.

"We weren't doing anything…," Donna spluttered at the same time the Doctor spoke.

Martha stood hands on hips, obviously disbelieving them while Mickey and Jack laughed behind her at the sight of the Doctor and Donna trying to defend their behaviour.

"Well?" Martha demanded as she watched them wrestle to their feet.

The Doctor stood brushing his hands down his suit. "We got pushed in," he tried to explain.

"What by? Wish fulfilment?" Jack sniggered at him.

"Don't you start!" Donna advanced on Jack, slapping hand held high. "Just 'cos you think it doesn't mean everyone else does."

"You weren't thinking of shagging the Doctor? Are you mad?" Jack teased her, and was instantly thumped for his trouble. "Ow! That hurt! You can't go around striking innocent men."

"Then you'd better find me one pretty fast," Donna glared at him. "'Cos I don't see one in front of me."

"Donna, it's alright," the Doctor gently said, taking hold of her hand to draw her away from the temptation to land one on Jack again.

Mickey giggled. "I see you've got the new misses under control."

The Doctor's face was like thunder for a few seconds. "Donna and I are good friends and nothing more intimate," he insisted.

Mickey snorted. "Yeah, keep on trying telling yourself that, boss." He turned to ask Jack, "What do you think, Captain? Would you describe them as friends?"

"As in boyfriend and girlfriend at the very least judging by today's escapade," Jack answered. "And don't think I don't know where you hung out last night Doc, you aren't that clever at covering your tracks."

"What do you mean?" the Doctor tried to innocently ask.

"Okay, you've forced me into this… Donna, did Martha find the Doctor in your room last night?" Jack began his interrogation.

Donna stole a reluctant glance at the Doctor before replying, "Yes, you know that's true."

"Were you both found wearing only towels?" Jack continued.

"Yes, but…," Donna tried to start an explanation.

"No buts, just give me the plain truth. Were you or were you not both lying on your bed at some point naked?" Jack quizzed her.

"We had towels on!" she defended them. "It's not how you think."

Jack held up a finger to waggle at her, "Ah, ah! The jury is out on that one. Did the Doctor spend the whole night in your bed?"

"That is none of your business!" Donna raged at him, fighting to control her impulse to lash out with real force.

"No denial I see," Jack grinned knowingly at her, ignoring Martha's shocked gasp at his actions. "Doctor, did you or did you not sleep with Donna?"

The Doctor hesitated, long enough to allow Jack to enjoy the moment. "I erm… I… well…Technically we did sleep…" He then compounded things by blushing.

"Thank you very much!" Jack boomed in triumph at the two people in front of him. "Ladies and gentlemen we have a couple," he announced to all and sundry. "Now will you please stop denying it?"

Almost angry beyond words, the Doctor rounded on Donna to yell, "Now do you see what happens when you don't tell people we are married?"

"Are you blaming me? 'Cos this clearly isn't my fault! You told me not mention our marriage," Donna yelled back, ready to slap him at the first sign of provocation.

"Donna? Are you both really married?" asked the new Mrs Martha Smith from behind them.

Donna and the Doctor turned from their glaring contest to take in the three inquisitive faces demanding an answer. They stole a glance at each other.

"Er…well…you see… it wasn't meant to come out like that…," began the Doctor.

"Hey everyone! Donna has already got herself a husband!" shouted out a surprisingly strong voice for such an old person from the doorway to the corridor. "It's that good looking Doctor!" continued Great Aunt Maud.

Within seconds they were pounced on left, right and centre by people willing to congratulate them.

"I bet you were trying not to steal our limelight, aye boss," Mickey said as he shook the Doctor's hand. Donna almost whimpered by his side. "I knew there was a reason you wore that fancy ring," he told Donna as he kissed her cheek.

The Doctor and Donna continued to pass each other silent pleas for help as the rest of the wedding party congratulated them.

"I bet you can't wait to be alone," Jack smirked at them as practically everyone else disappeared.

"Something like that," mumbled the Doctor.

"Yeah, we need a break from all this," admitted Donna. She took hold of the Doctor's hand. "We could do with freshening ourselves up, so we'll see you later, Jack."

"I can see you want to 'refresh' each other." Jack quirked a questioning eyebrow at her, but she brazened him out.

They both said their goodbyes and sauntered towards Donna's room. As soon as they were out of sight they made a dash for it, hoping no-one could see their embarrassment.

"Now _that_ is what you call keen," Jack remarked to Mickey with a low whistle, and they both laugh out loud together.


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning:** contains suggestions of sex (just in case that bothers you).

* * *

><p><strong>Part 3<strong>

.

They burst through the door to Donna's hotel room barely stopping to catch their breath on the way.

Angrily huffing when she discovered she didn't have enough air in her lungs to speak, Donna wildly gesticulated to the Doctor that she wanted him to unzip her bridesmaid dress for her. He obliged and then hastily turned around once it became apparent that she was going to peel it off in front of him. "You could have warned me," he sulkily defended himself as he shifted so that he could no longer catch her reflection in the television screen.

"You've seen more than this," Donna retorted, highly amused at his discomfort. "Why the sudden need to go coy on me?"

"Because..," he began to answer, accidentally turning back towards her to find her still standing in her ivory underwear and matching stockings, "… that was different. You virtually thrust your naked body upon me yesterday. Not that I'm saying yours is a horrible body… or that I didn't want to look…" His gaze slipped down to her cleavage and fought hard to get back up again to her face. "But you know what I mean," he ended, giving her his whimsiest smile.

She pointed towards the bathroom. "I'd better grab the dressing gown, and then we can talk, Spaceman," she said hesitantly. She took a step before asking, "You do want us to talk about this, don't you?"

The Doctor perched himself on the edge of the bed. "What exactly are we talking about this time? Has something happened I don't know about?" he frowned at her in confusion.

Donna disappeared briefly into the bathroom and reappeared donning the bathrobe. "I should hope you do know otherwise someone is going around doing an awfully good impersonation of you! I'm referring to our fake wedding," she clarified as she crossed the room to sit next to him. "What are we going to do about it? Or don't you care what your friends think?"

"I do!" he replied with a slight pout. "Just not all the time; and Donna," he paused to take her hand, "does it really matter what they think? We know the truth. It's just another anecdote for us to add to our 'great big book of times we were mistaken for a married couple'." He raised his free hand to remove a stray wisp of hair from her face. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"But Doctor," she fought to find the words to express her fears. "Martha has this idea that we keep…"

"We keep what?" he asked.

She felt tears start to inexplicable form in her eyes. "She thinks I'm a nymphomaniac!" she finally got out.

"Oh Donna!" he cried, pulling her into his embrace. "I'm sure she thinks nothing of the sort," he consoled her, tenderly stroking her hair.

"She does!" Donna sobbed. "I saw how she looked at us. She probably thinks we're up to all sorts of kinky stuff right this second."

He gave a chuckle. "What sort of kinky things do you think she suspects us of?"

She wiped at her eyes. "Me as some sort of sex slave doing the Dance of the Seven Veils before being tied to the bed," she mused with a smile.

"Like in Pompeii?" he asked, brightening up. "That was a very fetching outfit." Seeing her arch a questioning eyebrow, he added, "But not as lovely as your bridesmaid dress."

"Did you really like it?" she quizzed him.

"Like isn't a strong enough word. I thought you outshone the bride," he reluctantly admitted.

"Geroff!" she scoffed and batted feebly at his chest. "Nobody could look better than Martha does."

He cradled her face in his hands. "Believe me when I tell you, Donna Noble, you are beautiful," he sincerely told her, placing a careful kiss on her forehead.

She watched the movement with slight scorn. "Oh I see! I've become a pseudo daughter, have I?"

He grinned in amusement. "No, I don't think of you as a daughter. You're my friend; my best friend," he said placing a kiss on her cheek this time.

"Now I've become a maiden aunt!" she said with a laugh. "I really can't win here."

"Then I'll have to change the position to prove you have won," he near whispered, and placed a chaste kiss directly on her lips.

"That's better," she muttered just as he did so again, catching her unawares.

Feeling her giggle beneath him, he kept his lips there to tease her; that was the intention until she kissed him back. They continued to give each other little pecks that grew longer with each placement; grew into proper kisses shared with enjoyment. They broke apart and rested their foreheads together, smirking.

"Are we allowed to do that?" Donna asked fretfully.

"I don't see why not. They do think we are married after all," the Doctor replied.

"Yes, we have all the markings of a married couple," she agreed. "We share the odd kiss and never have sex."

"It's a hard job, but somebody has got to do it." The Doctor risked an eyebrow waggle at her. "Do you fancy having some more not-having-sex?"

Donna pretended to think it over. "Yeah, go on; you've talked me into it."

He leaned them back down onto the bed. "Have you thought of a title yet?" he asked her.

"What are we doing? Thinking of our autobiographies or something?" she wondered, sitting slightly up again.

"Your title if you're are supposed to be my wife," he clarified, gently tipping her back down onto the pillows once more.

"Oh, that! I was thinking Mrs Donna Depp." She smiled sweetly at him.

He groaned. "Johnny Depp. Again!" he whined.

"And why not if I've got to pretend to be married to someone," she reasoned. She then relented and stroked his sideburn with a consoling touch. "Or do you think I should seriously come up with a title for being your wife?"

He shifted position slightly on the bed, drawing her closer into his embrace. "I think it would help, especially as you said you'd be travelling with me forever."

"So I did," she agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck, bringing his face nearer still. "Does that worry you?"

"No, not unless it worries you. I'm quite happy with the thought of being able to do this…," he said in a low sultry tone milliseconds before he kissed her tenderly.

She opened up to him almost immediately as he pressed against her lips with his tongue. She didn't care if he was practising or if it was all for real; she just enjoyed the moment of shared passion between two very good friends.

He moved over her body, settling between her legs, as he deepened their kiss; sweeping his tongue over hers to thoroughly taste her. This was beginning to look really interesting.

And that's when the moment was spoilt by the phone ringing. "What?" the Doctor exclaimed in anger, and petulantly lifted the receiver. "Yes?" he demanded from whoever was on the other end of the line.

There was a hesitant intake of breath from the caller. "It's Martha, Doctor," she cautiously said. "What were you doing? Only, I was wondering…"

"What do you think we were doing?" he almost exploded at her. "We're lying here enjoying ourselves and _you_ have just interrupted us!"

"Spaceman, no! Don't!" Donna tried to caution him in a stern whisper, but he ignored her for the time being.

"What were you wondering Martha Smith, because Donna and I were in the middle of… of… something important here," he retorted as his brain caught up with his anger.

"I'm sorry Doctor, but we need Donna to come and do her bridesmaid thing, and… and I wouldn't have called unless it was necessary," Martha tried to defend herself.

"Hang on," he replied and handed the phone over to Donna.

Donna quickly sat up as she listened to Martha's explanation and apology. "That's okay Martha, I understand. I'll get dressed and we'll be down as soon as possible. Bye!" she said into the receiver and handed it back to the Doctor to return to its cradle. "I have to go and do a formal dance and then help Martha do her bride thing before she can leave the hall," she informed him. "I'm sorry, it looks like we'll have to do this another time." She just about managed to hold in a giggle when she saw how crestfallen he looked.

"Who do you have to dance with? Anyone in particular?" he asked, though Donna suspected that wasn't his true worry.

"I'd assume it has to be you, oh pretend-husband of mine," she teased him. "But if you want to bail I'll get someone like Jack up instead." That did it!

"I don't think so," he blazed at her. "And certainly not without me doing this first." He forced her to give him a searing kiss that left her breathless and giggly.

~o~

"What did they say?" Mickey asked Martha as she shut off her mobile phone. "You look worried."

"I think I caught them in the middle of doing _it_. He was _very_ angry," she explained, reaching out for Mickey instinctively.

Mickey gave an understanding chuckle. "I'd be pretty miffed too if someone phoned me during… Don't worry, Babe, it's just one of those things." He gave her a playful nudge. "Do you want to tell Jack, or can I?" They both burst out laughing.

~o~

"Ah, the wanderers have returned," Jack greeted them as Donna and the Doctor re-entered the hall. "Have you been doing anything interesting since I last saw you?" He was delighted to get a blush from both of them in response.

"Where's Martha and Mickey?" Donna asked instead, just as Great Aunt Maud accosted them.

Clasping Donna's free hand, Great Aunt Maud trilled, "You should have told me earlier, you naughty young woman! I wouldn't have tried to pair you off with anyone if I had known you'd already captured a man." She eyed the Doctor up and down. "And quite a fine looking one at that. Take no notice of what I said earlier about him being flighty; I thought you were only considering him then. Francine forgets to keep me up to date with these things. Now you look after yourself, and make sure that little one grows fit and healthy." She then astonished Donna by patting her on the stomach before sauntering off.

"What did she say?" the Doctor had only just managed to ask her as loud music started up.

"Donna! Dance!" Martha shouted at them as she waltzed passed with Mickey, so Donna did as she was told and held out her hand in a dancing pose.

The Doctor instantly steered them into a slow turn about the room, grateful that all eyes weren't on them for long as several older members of Martha's family got up to join them on the floor. He bent in to whisper, "What was all the tummy patting for?"

Donna looked back at him mortified. "She seems to think I'm pregnant," she told him.

"Pregnant!" he echoed loudly, and heard a gasp to his side.

There was an extremely loud squeal before both of them were engulfed in an enthusiastic hug. "You must be so happy! Congratulations!" Martha yelled out.

Then the Doctor felt his hand being pumped by Mickey. "Well done, boss!" he beamed.

Just as they thought it couldn't get any worse, the DJ announced to the whole room the need to congratulate the Doctor and his wife Donna who were expecting their first child.

Donna flung herself into the Doctor's willing arms. "Please get us out of here! Please!" she quietly begged him. "Before the news works its way to Mum."

"Aw look!" the DJ enthused as he watched them. "Isn't that wonderful?"

"He won't think it's wonderful when I fuse his equipment," the Doctor muttered to Donna, and then plastered on a smile for the benefit of the room.

"What's the matter, Donna?" Martha touched her arm in concern as Donna hid her face in the Doctor's shoulder.

"She's feeling a bit off colour," the Doctor explained. "I think I'd better take her home. Do you mind if we go?"

With lots of 'I hope you feel better soon's he managed to extract them from the bridal party, and guided Donna back upstairs. He wasn't completely surprised to find Donna was crying when they reached the room.

"Sh-sh-sh! It's okay," he consoled her, wiping away some of her tears. "We've been in worse scrapes."

"I know!" she wailed. "But I don't normally find out I'm married and up the duff afterwards all in one day."

"Er… newsflash, Donna! You aren't that now," he futilely pointed out.

"Thanks, Sunshine," she glared at him, "because I had no idea for a second."

"I was only trying to help," he retorted.

"That sort of help I can do without," she told him. "Now how do I explain the fact there is no baby? Come on, I need to know."

"How about we… sort of… lost it?" he offered.

"They're not going to buy that! You don't leave a baby just lying around like a set of car keys, you dimnoid! People will want details; and they'll ask lots of questions, and then what will they think of me?" she demanded, and began to cry again.

He dove into his jacket pocket to pull out a large white handkerchief, and proceeded to dab at her eyes with it. "They'll think exactly what they already think about you; that you are brilliant, and that I'm an extremely lucky man," he insisted.

"Why are you lucky?" she quickly asked.

"Because you are my…wife," he mumbled the last word in embarrassment.

"Now who's delusional?" she teased him.

He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers tenderly. "I don't care as long as I have you with me," he said.

His intense gaze made her insides go to mush. "I think we need to stop playing this game now, don't you?" she whispered. "This is getting dangerous."

A hurt expression flitted across his features for a second. "Yes, you are right." He sighed heavily. "I think it's time we went home and got away from this bizarre place."

"And I thought it was just my own weddings I messed up," Donna mused, and they both chuckled together.

He held out his arm to her. "Come on then, Mrs Donna Depp; let's get you into your own bed and safely away from here."

"I've changed my mind," she told him as they headed for the TARDIS. "I think I'll stick to Ms Donna Noble."

"A very wise choice," he agreed, and shut the door on the whole wedding affair.

.


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning:** contains suggestions of sex.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters, but I do possess a glass of water.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 4<br>**

.

They stood in the console room and took deep breaths, trying to put the last two days behind them. "Tea?" the Doctor offered, nodding towards the kitchen. "Personally I could murder a cup."

"Oh, definitely," Donna agreed. "I need a nice cup of tea, a bit of a sit down and the chance to take these shoes off. I've forgotten how deadly wearing heels is."

He swept his gaze over her appreciatively. "I'd say the whole outfit has a deadly affect. Are you allowed to keep the dress or do we have to go back?" he asked, guiding her towards the kitchen.

"I can keep it, but I might have to go back…," she said, glancing at him sheepishly. "I left some clothes in Francine's room."

"Don't fret about it," he told her, pulling out a chair for her to sit down before going over to the sink and filling up the kettle. "I'm sure they can leave a few items of clothing with your mum."

"Oh my God! Mum! They'll blab and then I'll really be in it." Donna couldn't hold in her fears any longer.

He ignored his task to return to her side, clasping her hands to comfort her. "Donna, we'll get through this; together. Please don't cry again; it's only a stupid rumour," he insisted, wiping the pad of his thumb across her cheek. "Honestly, love, it isn't worth it."

"That's easy for you to say," she said bitterly. "You can just waltz off onto another adventure, but I have to face people up close and personal. Mum can make my life a living hell if she wants to."

"Donna, do I need to point out that you don't live at home anymore? You live here with me," he reminded her, rubbing his thumbs over the back of her hands. "You do intend to stay with me, don't you?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course I do!" she insisted, using the intensity of her gaze underline her words. "I have no intention of ever going home to live."

"Then shouldn't you call this home?" he suggested, and held his breath as he waited for her answer.

She smiled brightly at him. "Yes, you're right. Home is here, with you," she replied. She threw her arms gratefully around him and hugged him tight. He returned her embrace, burying his face in the scents from her neck and hair.

~o~

Sylvia opened her front door to be greeted by an unknown woman. "Hello! Are you Donna's mum?" she asked Sylvia.

"Yes," Sylvia answered warily. "Can I help you?"

The woman lifted up a package to show her. "I've brought back Donna's clothes from the wedding," she said brightly. "I was hoping you could pass them on to her."

Sylvia eyed the package suspiciously. "Oh I'm sure I could," she told the woman with a smile. "What wedding was this then?"

"My sister Martha's. I'm Tish by the way," she introduced herself. "Donna was a bridesmaid. Didn't she tell you?"

"No she didn't," Sylvia moaned. "I've heard of Martha. Do you want to come in?" She guided Tish into the kitchenette. "Cup of tea?" she asked.

"Yes please!" Tish replied. "Didn't Donna come and visit you recently?"

Sylvia bustled about making tea and digging out a fresh packet of biscuits. "She usually makes little trips home, but we haven't seen her in a while," she explained, placing a mug of her finest in front of Tish. "Probably has lots to do, I suppose. Was she alright?" she asked as vaguely as she could.

"Oh yes!" Tish enthused. "Hang on… I have a photo somewhere." She produced several photos from her handbag and showed Sylvia, pointing out various members of her family.

"Ooh, don't you all look lovely!" Sylvia enthused when she saw the bridal group. She proudly smiled at Donna in her purple bridesmaids dress.

Seeing Sylvia's smile Tish lightly laughed, and pointed to that particular photo. "Donna got lots of admiring looks in that dress, but the Doctor was the one who seemed most taken with it," she commented. "He could hardly keep his hands off her."

"He what?" Sylvia exclaimed in disbelief and something else. "Are you sure?"

"Very sure," Tish replied smugly. "Donna didn't seem to mind in the slightest, but then why would she?"

"Hmm," Sylvia answered cagily, and considered the photos again.

~o~

Donna woke with the Doctor's arms around her again; it looked like it could become a pleasant habit, she thought. She felt a kiss being pressed to her temple. "Are you awake, Donna?" he whispered.

"No," she playfully whispered back. "I'm sound-o."

"Thought so," he replied with a chuckle, and gave her body a squeeze. "You must be dreaming this bit."

She wriggled round to face him. "It must be a nightmare if you're in here with me," she told him, a large mischievous grin played about on her lips. "Is it worth screaming for help?"

"Depends how far away I am when you scream. I could be very close indeed." He smirked at her in satisfaction.

She poked him in the chest. "Promises, promises, Spaceman," she chided. "Unless you are the one making me scream, and… Oh!" She suddenly blushed in embarrassment.

"What? What have I done now?" he asked her, clearly puzzled by her behaviour.

"You haven't done anything yet," she replied, and covered up her face as another wave of embarrassment hit her.

He gently removed her hands from her face. "What exactly am I supposed to be doing to you?" he asked, mere millimetres away from her.

"Nothing," she stammered out. And then she gave herself away; she flickered her gaze to his lips.

"We have unfinished business from yesterday, if memory serves me right," he stated, inching ever nearer. "Just before we were rudely interrupted."

"The phone call," she breathily recalled. "We were…"

"Yes we were," he confirmed quietly. He released her hands, letting them fall onto his shoulders, before tenderly grasping her jaw. "Shall we?" He passed his lips briefly over hers, as though testing the water. She didn't flinch away from him, or make any sign of protest; so he pressed slightly harder.

She opened her mouth to say something, probably something inane, but he took it as an invitation to kiss her properly. Plump ripe lips met tender caresses as their exchange deepened, drawn out with low groans and little grunts as they fought to breathe at the same time. Neither was keen to release their hold on each other as they tasted, learned, explored and discovered each other's mouth.

Their kisses deepened further, as they drew physical demands and made promises to each other; passionate declarations to remain together. "That's a nice way to wake up. Am I going to get that every morning now?" she asked when they inevitably broke apart.

"Oh that depends," he replied. "Will I be allowed back here again in your bed?"

She reached up to pull him to her. "I think it can be arranged, if you want to stay."

"I definitely want to stay, if you'll have me," he murmured, suddenly very intense.

"What would my mother say if she saw us like this?" she asked, not realising how much like a bucket of cold water her words were on him.

"Sylvia!" he gasped. "I'd forgotten about her."

"You're not frightened of her, are you? Surely not. Tell me you're not! Doctor, what is it?" she demanded.

He swayed momentarily, and pulled away from her. "I feel sick!" he announced, and then fled to the bathroom.

She watched his retreat with despair. "Bloody morning sickness," she griped before she followed to see if he was okay.

"I think it was the prawn vol au vents I ate," he explained as he gazed up at her from hugging the toilet bowl. "I did have quite a few of them."

"A few! I thought you were imitating a vacuum cleaner for a moment," she teased, trying to raise his dampened spirits. She turned and got him a glass of cold water; she made sure he swilled his mouth out and sipped some. "Have you got rid of it all?" she asked with concern, pressing her hand to his forehead.

"I think so," he feebly answered. "Sorry I ruined things."

"Doesn't matter," she soothed. "You'll get another chance to get things right. Unless you're pregnant of course..."

He chuckled. "Another reason to get into the medical books," he mused.

"Well, why not? Apparently I'm about to make it into the bible for similar reasons," she said with a giggle.

He waggled an eyebrow at her. "We could edit that one out, if you fancy?"

She laughed and pretended to swat at him. "Oi! I thought you were sick." She tenderly rubbed his back. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

He rose and loosely embraced her. "A cup of tea would be nice for my stomach, and then we'd better deal with the inevitable," he said.

"You mean Mum, don't you? If you're too ill to face her I'll understand," she replied.

He merely rested his head on hers in answer.

~o~

Sylvia was dealing with changing the beds when the doorbell went. "I'll get it, Dad!" she called out to Wilf. To her surprise Donna and the Doctor were standing there when she opened the door. "Donna!" she cried. "Come in, come in." She paused at the bottom of the stairs to yell up, "Dad! It's Donna and the Doctor!"

There was a flurry of movement from upstairs before Wilf came running down to greet them. "Donna! Doctor!" he declared, and hugged both of them thoroughly.

They inanely chatted about how they all were while they made their way into the lounge, and sat down. Sylvia fussed over them and hurried off to make tea and Wilf went to arrange a snack.

"See! It's not so bad," Donna whispered to the Doctor, who seemed to be relaxing beside her. "How's the stomach?"

"Miles better, thanks. It would be even better if it was your tea I was about to drink," he leant in to whisper back.

"You flatterer! I've never known you to care much beyond if it was actually tea," she said with a grin.

"You're right," he agreed. "I only want you…"

"Doctor! Is it two sugars?" called out Sylvia, interrupting him.

"Erm… yes please, Sylvia," he quickly replied, trying to hide his sudden blush.

'Hmm, interesting', Sylvia thought as she watched his reaction. 'He really does seem to have a thing for Donna'. Tea, sandwiches and cake were carried through to the lounge and placed on the coffee table. "Help yourselves," she offered. As they all tucked into ham sandwiches, she remembered the package and dashed out to get it.

"Donna," she said when she reappeared. "This was left for you." Sylvia handed over the bag containing Donna's pre-wedding outfit. "Someone called Tish brought it round."

"Oh, Tish!" Donna stammered with apprehension. "How was she?"

"Fine. She's a lovely girl," Sylvia stated as she sat down and sipped her tea. "She told me all about the wedding."

Donna suddenly choked on her sandwich, needing the Doctor to pat her on the back to clear her airway. "Are you alright?" he asked with deep concern. He kept a hand on her just in case.

Donna gave him a watery smile. "I'll be okay," she said hoarsely.

"You look a bit worried, Donna," Wilf commented. "Was it something about the wedding."

Donna took a deep breath. "Oh no, Gramps. I'm fine about it. Are you okay about it?" she asked, frowning slightly.

The Doctor grasped her hand as they waited for his response. "Well, I can't say I'm not a little disappointed that we didn't know about it at the time, but I'm sure you had your reasons for not telling us," Wilf answered.

"What do you mean a little disappointed?" Sylvia scoffed at him. "You were upset you couldn't see Donna in her finery."

"I admit that's true," Wilf agreed. "I'm sure Donna looked absolutely lovely at the wedding."

Donna and the Doctor exchanged a very guilty glance with each other. "She did look lovely, Wilf," the Doctor remarked. "I've never seen her look lovelier than at Martha's wedding. But about the other thing…"

"What other thing?" Wilf asked.

The Doctor gestured between him and Donna. "About us and the wedding," he began to say. "Well, I think we owe you both an explanation."

"You don't need to worry about that," Wilf said kindly. "We understand how busy you are, travelling about like you both do. I'm very proud of you both."

"You are?" the Doctor asked in amazement. "I don't know what to say."

"That's a first!" Donna teased. "Though sometimes your mouth is otherwise engaged."

He wrapped an arm around her. "You've only done that the once… oh hang on, you made a good job of that in the hotel bedroom," he told her, as they momentarily forgot they had an audience.

"Excuse me! You started that; in both cases," she mock argued.

"Only because you tempt me so, and you know it; and don't try to deny it, I have a naked shower session to prove my point," he countered.

"Would you care to explain what the hell is going on?" Sylvia abruptly asked, breaking through their bubble.

Donna threw the Doctor a beseeching glare. "I can explain, Mum," she replied.

"I'm really sorry about our 'marriage'," the Doctor added

"You're married?" Sylvia almost shrieked.

"That's not important right now; we thought we'd better come here and put things right about the baby," he told her.

"Baby? When did that happen?" Sylvia really wasn't looking well.

Wilf wasn't looking so chipper either. "Married? And a baby?" he faintly asked. "All without telling us."

"Gramps it isn't like that!" Donna implored him. "There's been a big mistake."

"I'll say there has!" Sylvia yelled at her. "The mistake is _you_ thinking you can casually swan in here, announce you are married to _that_ man and then tell us you're pregnant!"

Donna tried to shy away from her mother's glare. "But I'm not! Honestly I'm not. Do you mean Tish didn't tell you we were married; and she didn't say anything about a baby?" she hesitantly asked.

"No she did not!" Sylvia answered.

"Oops!" Donna told the Doctor.

"Any ideas what we do now before I'm torn to shreds?" the Doctor quietly asked her, keeping a careful eye on Sylvia.

"Run?" Donna proposed.

"You run; save yourself. I'll hold them off until you are safe," he replied.

"I'm not going without you," she insisted. "We're the two musketeers."

"Partners in crime." They shared a smile.

"What is it with you two? Oh for goodness sake! Just kiss her!" Sylvia griped.

So he did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning:** contains suggestions of sex.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters, and I've made no attempt to be historically accurate with this (beyond the internet stuff). Go on; ask me if I'm bovvered.

**A/N:** Now with added "best-friends-oblivious-to-how-much-they-love-each-other kissage!" [term courtesy of **nipponophile**]

* * *

><p><strong>Part 5<strong>

**.  
><strong>

Not quite knowing they were under the watchful eye of Sylvia and Wilf, the Doctor continued to kiss Donna, revelling in the sudden freedom to be able to do so. He continued until Sylvia cried out in exasperation, "We get the picture! You can stop now!"

Two clearly embarrassed faces emerged from the passionate embrace, and apologised. Their discomfort increased when Wilf innocently asked, "When's the baby due?"

"There is no baby, Gramps," Donna told him as gently as she could. "We…" She looked to the Doctor for guidance in how to handle their non-news.

He went to open his mouth but Wilf shook his hands in the air at him. "No, no need to explain," Wilf blustered at them. "We all get false alarms like that." He shifted forward as if he were about to stand up. "I think we need to celebrate this marriage of yours. How about I rustle us up some fizz and then you can tell us all about it?"

"I'm not sure…" Donna really didn't know how to break it to his happy little heart that she was about to disappoint him again.

The Doctor gave her hand a squeeze. "Why don't we just enjoy this moment for a change," he said with emphasis. "You never know when things could go bad for us."

"Exactly!" Sylvia agreed, jumping up out of her chair. "I'll get some glasses, Dad."

As they bustled off, Donna quietly asked the Doctor, "What on earth are you playing at, you idiot? They still think we are married. Shouldn't we put them right?"

"Don't you see," he pointed out in a whisper. "They think it and they still like the idea! Who'd have guessed that? Your mum is actually acting as though she likes me. Can't we keep this up until we have our pretend divorce…? I mean, if she is going to go back to hating me, can't I have some time when she doesn't?" He threw her a pleading look that she couldn't refuse.

"Okay, I'll keep to the story… for now; but don't expect me to extend it to having a house with a dog or anything," she warned him. "Just be aware how much hatred will be coming your way when we announce our 'divorce'."

"Depends what reason I divorce you, surely," he mused.

"You what? If anyone is doing the divorcing it'll be me, Sunshine!" She huffed angrily at him. "I'll probably be able to cite you running after young women at the drop of a hat," she told him, waggling an index finger in his face.

He grabbed hold of the offending finger. "Yes, just think; the last woman I ran after had ginger hair and a curvaceous figure. I really ought to avoid them in future," he replied. "Especially as she threw herself at me whilst wearing a wedding dress. Do you think she was giving me a subtle hint?" He waggled an eyebrow and placed a tender kiss on her wrist.

"You prawn!" she murmured, and leant forward to kiss his lips.

"Aye, aye, they're at it again, Sylvia!" Wilf declared with delight. He placed a bottle of something fizzy on the coffee table as Sylvia set down four glasses.

Both Donna and the Doctor tried their best to give him a big beamy smile in response, and a glass of sparkling Cava was thrust in their hands. "To the happy couple!" Sylvia raised her glass, and Wilf echoed her sentiment. Donna and the Doctor gulped down their wine as quickly as possible hoping they wouldn't be expected to do anything else.

"Tell us about your wedding," Wilf encouraged them. "How long ago did it happen?"

Donna sat back and hugged her refilled glass. She was determined to make the Doctor spout this one. "We chose a gloriously sunny day," the Doctor began, and basically related the 'wedding' that had taken place on the rooftop overlooking St Paul's Cathedral. He made it sound wonderfully romantic and completely impulsive.

Sylvia gazed at him with a doppy grin during the whole story, thinking how lucky they were that Donna was married now, and in such a way. She could almost forgive the fact they hadn't known about it; she'd work towards that one later.

~o~

As the Doctor climbed into the bed next to her later, Donna couldn't help asking him, "Doctor? Do you think we're doing the right thing making Mum and Gramps stay in the dark about us? I feel really mean."

"Don't worry about it. These things have a habit of working themselves out for the better. Just look how happy they were earlier," he told her. "I had wondered if your mum was capable of smiling at me to be honest."

She gave him a playful push. "Give over! She's smiled at you lots of times," she insisted.

He closed his eyes and thought for a second. "No! She's sort of smiled at you, but not at me. I get blank looks," he stated.

"Well, she adored you today," she replied.

"She certainly did," he agreed. "I'm adored now that I've apparently rescued you from that shelf. And what about you? Do you adore me now?" he playfully asked.

She gave him the once over, considering him as though she was buying a used car. "You'll do," she finally said. "I'll let you know when I get to the 'adoring' part."

He wrapped his arms around her. "Ooh… you're planning on getting to an 'adoring' part. That might work in my favour."

"I wouldn't hold your breath while I do, it might be a long wait," she told him, returning his embrace.

"That's okay. I hear you were going to wait at least a hundred years for me," he replied, delighting in the blush it brought to her cheeks.

"I cannot believe Gramps told you that! I wanted to kill him; and I never thought I'd ever say that," she answered.

"So that was all true?" he asked with a chuckle. He brought his face nearer to her to say, "Donna Noble has the hots for me."

"I do not!" she protested. "I don't feel anything of the sort."

"Then why are you lying here within my arms, letting me do this?" He nuzzled into her neck and kissed the tender skin behind her ear.

She felt a wave of a delicious emotion course through her body. "I dunno why, but whatever it is, they ought to bottle it and sell it," she remarked with a happy sigh. "They'd make a fortune if they manage to keep up with demand."

"How about you do some supplying while I do some demanding?" he asked in a low sultry tone, and captured her lips in a succulent kiss.

Her answer was to snog the living daylights out of him in return. You can't let down your best customers when you are a decent supplier after all.

~o~


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6  
><strong>

.

They stepped out of the TARDIS into late evening on a cobbled street clearly not modern day. "Okay, where are we, Timeboy?" Donna asked excitedly.

He sniffed visibly. "I'd say late eighteenth century England. Possibly…" He glanced about and noticed a distinctive building. "… Canterbury, and I'd say something's up."

A very harassed looking man ran passed them. "By all that is Holy, run for your lives!" the man shouted.

"What's frightened you?" the Doctor shouted in question.

"A demon! I'm off to fetch the Archbishop to deal with it," the man called back, and disappeared into an alley way.

"Sounds like a job for us, Donna," the Doctor gleefully remarked.

"Oh, I would have said it was definitely up your street," Donna agreed, "Got any Holy Water on you?"

"I don't need that!" he insisted and held out his hand in invitation. "Are you coming?"

"Did you need to ask?" she replied, grasping his hand.

"Allons y!" he cried, and they both took off running to where the man had come from.

~o~

They followed the screams to an enclosed church courtyard where a group of frightened choristers cowered. In one corner, looking very pleased with themselves, were two creatures. Both were short and stocky with three head appendages like some sort of pteranodon. "What are they, Doctor?" Donna asked in amazement. "They look like lizard people gone wrong."

"They're Graske," the Doctor replied. "I've dealt with them before. They are nothing but a pest! They can teleport themselves about and cause chaos for fun."

"And people think they are demons. Makes sense when you look at them. Would they actually melt if you throw Holy Water over them? You know, like in the Dracula films?" she pondered, thinking that the open door to the nave wasn't very far away.

"Nah! Doesn't do a thing against them," the Doctor whinged. "The things need shoving away, basically."

"Would a swift kick up the jacksy work?" she asked. "Or a well applied cricket bat."

"Now Donna! Don't be mean to the stupid creatures." He eyed the Graske thoughtfully.

"Who are you calling stupid?" one of the Graske demanded. "You hairy creatures are all the same!"

"Oi! Oh don't lump him in with us mere mortals; you'll upset him," Donna pointed out to the Graske. "We're only human."

"Yes, thank you, Donna"! the Doctor groaned at her. "I can speak for myself."

"What are you then?" asked the Graske. "You look the same as her."

"Don't you mean she looks the same as me?" he questioned the Graske.

The Graske looked between Donna and The Doctor. "You look like one and the same. Is this your mate?"

"We're not...," Donna began the usual denial.

"Donna! Not necessary anymore," he reminded her.

"Doctor, this thing isn't my mother so I don't give a stuffed fig what it thinks of you beyond the need for it to turn tail and run away," Donna replied.

The Doctor gave a cough and adjusted his tie. "Yes, well, I'm sure that is true, but I have a situation to deal with here."

"Did you say you are called Doctor; as in the Time Lord?" the Graske asked with some trepidation.

"Yes that's me!" the Doctor answered with a faint squeak of pride.

"Oh great! Another species to add to the big book of 'impressed by Time Lords'," Donna remarked. "Doesn't that ever get old?"

"Why should it?" the Doctor visibly preened itself.

"It's just that...the Graske are getting away," she pointed out as the creatures made a dive for the church doorway.

The Doctor shot both of them with a blast from his sonic screwdriver, rendering them unconscious and unharmed. The congregated bunch of choirboys burst into a round of applause; Donna merely rolled her eyes. "I think there might be another one about. Do you think you could double check for me while I deal with these two?" he asked her.

"Yeah, sure," she replied. "But if I find out you have sneaked off and started scoffing something half decent, like last time, I'll have you!"

"You say the sweetest things," he said, blowing her a mock kiss. "And is that last bit a promise?"

"You cheeky git," she admonished him with a laugh. "And in front of choirboys too!"

He did a fake shrug. "All part of a church education."

She left him with his audience and began to peep down various lanes and alleyways. The place was deserted. At least he had given her a torch of her own now; otherwise the search would have been extremely creepy. And she hadn't fancied dealing those Graske up close; they looked as though they could bite quite nastily.

She just about to give up the ghost and go back to the Doctor when she heard the distinct cry of a child. Immediately she made for the sound knowing that she was prepared to face a Graske, or possibly worse, on her own.

Donna caught one of the Graske towering over a small child menacingly, scaring the child witless. "Oi you! Bog off!" she shouted and kicked out at its scrawny behind. "Geroff out of it before I kick you again."

"You'll regret this!" the Graske threatened her.

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all before," Donna mocked. "Get back to where you belong, Rumpelstiltskin, or you'll suffer more than a pain in the backside."

The Graske tried glaring at her, with little result, and transported itself away.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish." Donna remarked, then turned her attention to the child. "Are you okay, sweetheart? Did that thing hurt you?"

The child promptly burst into tears from relief. "I hurt my knee," he wailed.

"Let's have a look," Donna kindly said, and examined the knee in question. "Oh yes, it's bleeding a little bit. You'll have a lovely bruise to show off tomorrow when you tell everyone how you fought off a demon."

The boy looked quite pleased at that thought. "I will! Thank you."

"I'm Donna by the way," she told him as she helped him to stand up. "Do you want me to help you home or shall we go find my friend the Doctor?"

"Is he the demon slayer I saw you with earlier?" the boy asked, suddenly enjoying the adventure. "Can I come with you and meet him?" There was a slight pause and then he added, "I'm called Matthew."

"Lovely to meet you, Matthew," Donna replied, unfazed by the Doctor hero-worship, and led him away.

~o~

"It teleported away," she told the Doctor later. "I'm sorry for not stopping it."

"That's alright," he consoled her with a kiss to her temple. "He'll think twice about coming back here for quite a while."

"He'll think about it every time he tries to sit down for the next couple of hours, hopefully," she added with a grin. Matthew ran passed at that moment and waved enthusiastically at them.

"Got yourself a boyfriend, I see," the Doctor teased her. "I never saw you as a cradle snatcher."

"Speak for yourself, Timeboy," Donna retorted. "And he only came with me because he wanted to meet you."

He nudged her shoulder. "That's not what he told me. He described you as his Guardian Angel." He wove a curl of her hair around his finger. "Who can blame him thinking such thoughts when faced with such glory?"

"Geroff!" she blustered modestly. "Since when did being ginger make you an angel? Only blonde kids were allowed to be angels at school."

"Then they were totally wrong," he told her. "Gingers have their own special place in heaven."

"Don't tell me… it can be found right by the rubbish bins," she retorted.

"Why won't you let me compliment you properly?" he griped. "Anyone would think you don't like it."

"Let's just say it's a rarity, Spaceman. And why are you looking so smug all of a sudden? You are up to something; I know you!" She eyed him suspiciously.

"Well," he started, drawing out the syllable.

~o~

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7  
><strong>

.

"I've just had a very interesting chat with a close relative of your Matthew; a certain Archbishop of Canterbury. He wanted to reward me," the Doctor boasted.

Donna drew in a breath of disbelief. "He's not gone and made you Cardinal Biggles has he? That would be too funny for words."

"No, my doubting best friend," he said, sneaking a quick kiss. "I've been offered something much better than that." He positively glowed with his potential boast.

"If this involves me riding through Canterbury stark naked on a horse like Lady Godiva I'll kill you with my own bare hands," she threatened him.

"Why would I arrange…?" he began to ask in confusion. "Donna, how do you fancy getting married in Canterbury Cathedral? I wasn't sure at first but the Archbishop was most insistent when he found out about us, and he's willing to do us a quick ceremony. And not only that but our names will be the first entry in the new parish records so we will be able to prove to all and sundry that we are married by looking it up on the internet later!" He stood almost trembling with excitement as he waited for her answer. "Can you imagine that? All someone has to do is look at 1768 and there we'll be!"

"You've arranged all this already, with the Archbishop?" she asked as patiently as she could. "Isn't it customary to... ooh, I dunno... actually ask me first? As in propose?"

"Well I would, but I don't need to, do I?" he answered, starting to swagger away just in case she got physically violent with her protest. "So what do you say? Do you fancy a ceremony in THE Canterbury Cathedral performed by the Archbishop himself? Not many people can say that one."

"Oh, I don't know since you make it all sound so tempting," she replied sarcastically. She paused to think it through properly. Obviously she wasn't going to get a real proposal out of him, this was as good as it was going to get; and was it worth kicking up a stink about a marriage ceremony as she had every intention of spending the rest of her life with him. Plus, first in the book and on the internet! None of her friends could claim that one! "Yes, all right," she finally said to his delight. "Do I need to find fancy wedding clothes?"

"No. That's the beauty of this time period. I told him we are both widowed…," he started to explain.

Donna interrupted him. "Widowed?" Then she thought about his lost family in the Time War, and Lance had sort of been her husband when he died. She nodded at him. "Fair do's. Carry on."

He acknowledged her nod. "Being widowed takes away some of the faffing about; and we can just wear our Sunday best. Brilliant!" He glowed with pride at her.

"Brilliant," she replied. "Do I get anything else?" She wove her hands up into his hair and drew him closer.

"I can offer a down payment," he said, and ghosted his lips over hers before deepening their contact; promising _much_ more to come.

"Just be warned; I'll expect the rest in regular instalments," she added, as she considered taking a full twenty per cent deposit. His lips were too delicious to refuse anything.

"Really? I'd better make sure I keep _up_ with all that," he replied with a cheeky grin.

"Are you being saucy with me again?" she asked, laughingly smacking at his shoulder.

"Yes! Good isn't it?" He could hardly contain his glee.

She pulled his mouth down onto hers. "Oh it's all good," she mumbled.

~o~

Since it wasn't customary to walk about, let alone marry, wearing jeans, Donna opted to return to the TARDIS and change into something a bit more suitable. 'Suitable' being an extremely loose term when applied to undergarments beneath a revealing dress. She kept telling herself it was for only a few hours; but her breasts complained about their unfettered state. "Stop moaning; you look lovely," the Doctor eventually snapped at her after hearing lots of griping. "I can't see what all the fuss is about." Too angry for words as she adjusted the flimsy material, she let her glare-of-death answer for her.

The ceremony was extremely short and sweet, just as they had been promised; they had managed to drag in two people off the street - well, two visiting pilgrims to be more honest who had only just arrived with their candles - to act as their witnesses. The Archbishop wore all his finery and spoke movingly about their relationship; they were very impressed!

"I now pronounce you man and wife," the Archbishop declared to the congregation of various church attendees, all a bunch of strangers.

"Hello wife," the Doctor uttered to Donna, and tilted her face up to place a kiss on her lips.

As he did so there was a distressed cry of "Doctor!" from somewhere at the back of the church.

Both of them turned to see who would shout at him like that, to be faced with the vision of a decidedly miffed Rose. "Oh great! I'm back on the substitute bench," Donna moaned, trying to release herself from his hands; but he wasn't prepared to let go of her so easily.

"Rose! How did you...?" he began to ask when Rose fluttered out of existence before their eyes.

They were shocked to discover the whole church congregation around them were desperately praying. "An angel has appeared before us," the Archbishop stammered out, "and spoke your name, Doctor. Your union is truly blessed."

"That's not the word I'd use," Donna muttered before trying to pull herself together. "It's alright, Doctor, you don't have to tell me. I can make my own way back home," she said in a resigned voice.

She tried to pull away from him again, but he held on tight. "I don't think you do understand, Donna. You are my wife now, it's official!" He gave her a manic grin. "And that was a passing fancy," he pointed to where Rose had stood.

"And you are such a liar!" she exclaimed. "If she can do that once she can do it again; and then I'll be officially out on my ear; so don't pretend with me. At least I got as far as saying the words this time before I lost my husband to another woman," she said bitterly.

"Donna! I've waited centuries to do this," he told her as he pressed his body against her's.

"Waited for what?" she asked, but he answered by crushing his lips onto her's passionately.

"Waited to make you mine," he whispered.

When Rose reappeared seconds later she was even more annoyed by what she saw. She disappeared unseen by them, her face like thunder.

~o~


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8  
><strong>

.

They were treated to a meal with the Archbishop and his family to celebrate their marriage after the ceremony. It felt different to the normal celebratory meals they were invited to; and every now and again Donna kept stealing a look at the wedding ring sitting on her finger. It had been a quite some time since he had last placed a ring there, on that rooftop long long ago.

But once they were back in the TARDIS her doubts started to surface. She got out of her dress with the Doctor's help and began to remove her jewellery, placing her bracelet solemnly on her dressing table. The Doctor immediately noticed her thoughtfulness and drew her onto the bed to sit next to him.

"Penny for them," he whispered into her ear. "You don't regret doing this today, do you?"

She considered his puppy dog expression. "Of course I don't, you prawn," she answered. "I wouldn't have said 'yes' if I wasn't willing to."

"What else are you willing to say 'yes' to?" he asked with a certain gleam in his eye.

"Are you asking what I think you are asking?" She paused, knowing she had to ask about the appearance earlier even though she might regret getting the answer she anticipated. Taking an encouraging deep breath, she asked, "What about Rose? It looks like you might be able to get her back." She broke from his gaze, unable and unwilling to see what might be there. "I don't understand how she did it, but I can't help feeling that… well, she'd be daft not to try and get back to you."

"I'd say it was that Graske meddling," the Doctor replied. "He's involved in some way for her to be able to find us in that place."

"That sounds possible," she answered weakly. "At least she showed up before we did anything too dangerous."

"What do you mean by dangerous? At what point would it be 'too dangerous'?" he asked, lifting her chin, forcing her to look at him. "When we showered together, when we slept in the same bed, when we kissed, when we married each other; when Donna? We are living as man and wife. I don't think it can get more serious than that."

"There's no baby," she tried to joke. "Having children would be loads more serious."

He knew he had to handle this carefully, for both their sakes. "I've hidden nothing from you about my past and with your help I've moved on. I would love for Rose to return, I won't deny that, but Donna…" He snatched at her, stopping her from running away from him. "I don't want to lose you."

"Rose might have objections to me sticking around; I'd be playing gooseberry after all," she reasoned, giving him a little shrug of her shoulders. "And you'd definitely have to stop sleeping in my bed, as well as all the kissing."

"You're my wife, Donna," he insisted.

"Only in name," she retorted. "It won't mean squat when…"

He pushed back some hair from her face. "When I tell her I want you; that I married you because I wanted to and not because everyone assumed I should. _If _she came back again; and I think it will be highly unlikely now that she'll bother," he told her.

"Of course she'd bother. Why wouldn't she?" she heard herself ask.

"The Archbishop told me she saw us, Donna. She saw me kiss you after I had realised that I was no longer haunted by my previous feelings. I knew I was free to start anew." He tenderly brushed his fingers across her cheek bone. "I'm well passed 'too dangerous'."

A broad smile lit up her face. "That's good because so am I, Spaceman."

He took the opportunity to kiss her then, slowly and tenderly. He positively beamed at her when he pulled back. "Come here, wench. Come and sit on my lap," the Doctor playfully demanded, tapping his thigh.

Donna obliged him and then pondered, "I'm surprised you haven't asked for a lap dance."

"How do you dance on a lap? The mind boggles," he mused.

She laughed. "You really are naïve at times." She patted his cheek with a soft consoling hand. "Either that or I wonder if you are really flesh and blood under that shirt."

"Yes I am!" he insisted, and proceeded to undo all the buttons to reveal his pale flesh underneath. "See! There's even some muscle if you look."

She took the opportunity to run her hands over the dark hairs that lay there and feel the two hearts beating under her inquisitive touch. "Oh yes! And to think I was expecting metal casing and a hard drive."

"Who do you think I am? Iron Man?" he quizzed her.

"Can you be him?" Her eyes lit up with interest, causing him to bristle.

"Another one to add to the great Donna Noble list of fanciable men is it?" he huffed.

She giggled and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Do you know who is number one on that list?"

"Yes," he answered. "It's Johnny Depp."

She thought carefully for a second. "Okay, who's number two?"

He chose that moment to attack her ribcage with his ticklish fingers. "That shall be your punishment for being mean to me."

"How exactly am I being mean to you?" She then deliberately dropped the tone of her voice to sultrily ask him, "Is it mean to do this?" Leaning forward, she began to place tiny kisses across his chest, making his breath hitch. "Or even this?" She placed longer kisses on the base of his throat, suckling at the flesh there, licking over his Adam's apple until he was almost panting.

"I'm not sure. Show me a bit more," he told her, leaning back to give her greater access. When her inquisitive tongue found his earlobe he almost skyrocketed with desire. "Where the hell did you learn to do that?"

Perfectly satisfied that he was bucking up beneath her administrations, she coolly told him, "You expose that throat, and you seriously don't expect someone to not want to lick it? I think you have been hanging out in the wrong part of the universe."

"I think you are right," he happily agreed. "I should have swung by you ages ago."

"Fortunately you have now, so at least you have had a decent thought once in your life," she told him.

"I'll tell you something else for nothing; I'm having quite indecent thoughts at the moment," he informed her.

"Really?" she asked with delight. "What sort of thing?"

"I couldn't possibly say in front of a lady," he stuttered out as he felt his resolve begin to crumble when she sucked hard on one particular spot.

"Whisper to me then," she offered.

"I know how the Marquis de Sade felt now when he insisted on telling me his tales. Oh Donna!" he cried.

"Are you saying you know some kinky stories?" she stopped to ask, suddenly very impressed with him.

"Do I?" he replied. "And I've just realised what you meant when you mentioned me making you scream. I know I've said this before, but you are one hell of a woman, Donna Noble."

"I do my best," she told him smugly; and then captured his lips.

He returned her kiss with enthusiasm, letting his emotions come to the fore; pouring every ounce of himself into their embrace and delighting in the depth of the response he received. "Have you ever heard the phrase 'conjugal rights'?" he asked when they broke apart.

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'shut up Doctor and get on with it'?" she retorted, and pulled him down onto the bed.

~o~

TBC


	9. Chapter 10

**A/N:** I've been prodding my muse for ages to write this for katherine_b as I felt mean for not being able to do so originally, and _finally_ Tesco provided the stimulus (in the toilet of all places!).

* * *

><p><strong>Part 10 [aka Part 1 - the Doctor's POV]<br>**

.

It was so boring wandering the halls of the hotel! Donna had gone off to the room Martha had reserved for her, and the Doctor was left to his own devices for a few minutes. A few minutes that extended into longer minutes, as their enforced separation continued.

He'd had enough! With the air of a determined man he made his way to where he calculated Donna's room was. Why someone couldn't have just told him in the first place was beyond him, but as soon as they'd stepped out of the hotel restaurant Donna had been whisked away from his grasp. With that thought in mind he rapped on the door that held the faint scent of Donna's perfume. He waited anxiously, bobbing up and down on the spot, hoping he'd chosen the right room, before the door was yanked open.

"What are you doing up here?" Donna demanded as she cautiously eyed him.

Ah, maybe she wasn't quite as pleased to see him as he'd expected. "I was lonely. I thought I'd come and see what you were up to," he replied. 'Please let me in, please let me,' he internally chanted.

"What do you think I'm doing? I'm dressed in a dressing gown and not much else, holding a towel. Now let me see…," she tapped playfully on her lip, mocking him in her usual style. "What could I be doing next? Have you worked it out yet, Sherlock?"

Amusement bubbled up through him, but he dampened it down in case it earned him a slap. "Alright! I can see you were about to have a shower; no need to be sarky," he answered testily.

She laughed at his pout. "Give that boy a goldfish! Now why don't you tell me the real reason you've sloped up here?"

He could feel he was getting closer to being allowed in. she couldn't resist him now, surely. "Well…," he sheepishly shrugged; and that was when the distinct scent of Martha wafted up to assault his senses. He couldn't have her find him standing there, outside Donna's room. It wasn't seemly. What would she think? Okay, he could possibly guess what she'd think, and despite him slightly liking the idea he couldn't let things veer that way. Donna wouldn't be happy about it. He sniffed the air like a bloodhound. "Quick! Martha is coming!"

He didn't give Donna the chance to answer; instead he grasped her around the waist, stepped into the room and pulled her with him. He hastily shut the door firmly with the aim of waiting it out. With any luck Martha would walk straight passed Donna's room and he could make the most of being in there. Donna was used to entertaining him after all. He was thinking that just as there was a loud knock on Donna's door, making him visibly jump. He gestured to her to keep quiet about him and that he'd hide in the bathroom. Donna gestured back that he had a screw loose.

Giving her one last 'What?' he dived behind the bathroom door and shut it; leaning back against it in the darkness of the room. If Martha found him in there they'd never hear the end of it; not from Jack anyway. That man would find innuendo in the Magna Carta if he looked hard enough. And the Doctor didn't want Donna put off from staying with him by any of that nonsense.

Keeping his ear pressed to the door, he could make out their muffled voices as Donna tried to distract Martha from staying. Good old Donna! Then his thoughts turned to 'What is she playing at?' when he heard her strategy fail. In the diminished light he felt his way into the bathtub and quickly drew the shower curtain in place just in time as the sound of the door being thrust open reached him and the light switching on made him wince.

He held his breath until he heard Martha ask, "The bathrooms are nice, aren't they?"

'Now go away,' he thought as Donna answered, "Very nice. Perhaps I'll have my shower later, once I've figured out how to work the taps. They look a bit antiquated to me."

'Good girl, Donna,' he agreed; but was horrified to hear Martha reply, "I'll help you." A hand shot through the gap between the curtain and the wall as Martha turned the tap on. A loud swish of water hit him full in the face as the shower sprung into life. "There you go!" Martha said triumphantly. 'I'll give you go!' the Doctor wetly thought as he rotated his body slowly so that he could see and breathe again properly. Thank goodness for respiratory bypasses! Donna was going to kill him when he squelched across her bedroom later.

"I'll just let the water warm up if you don't mind. So what did you want to talk to me about?" Donna's voice came to him muffled through the aqua onslaught. He was glad that she was thinking on her feet; covering his back as it were. He smiled despite himself.

Martha's next words shook him to his very core. "I'm a doctor remember, Donna. I have seen it all before. Just step into the shower when you want to." What? Was she mad? Donna would never step naked into a shower knowing he was hiding there. No, she wouldn't let him see her naked, because friends don't do naked. And she'd be…you know… naked!

"Maybe, but you haven't seen all of me and I'd like to keep it that way," he heard Donna mumble. 'Phew! Thank goodness for that… I think,' he pondered.

He heard Martha laughingly say, "You pretend to be such a woman of the world and yet you can't shower in front of a doctor!"

He wanted to groan. Surely she wouldn't drop him in it now? 'Please don't!' he thought. "Yeah, something like that," Donna agreed to his relief.

"Go on, you're wasting water; and I won't look," Martha said. He felt a panic attack come on. 'Don't do it, don't do it,' he internally chanted this time, fearing for his own personal safety. Donna was going to be way beyond angry if he saw her… no he mustn't think about that; he must not! He really, really mustn't! Especially when those sort of thoughts lead to unwanted responses in front of your best friend!

As he thought that the shower curtain was pulled back and there stood Donna in all her glory; her hands clasped shyly across her body to hide her modesty. Gone was the horror at being caught in there by Martha; gone was the horrible feeling of sopping wet cloth clinging to his body; gone was the indignity of looking like a drowned rat; replacing it all was the shock of being faced with the sheer nakedness of one Donna Noble as she held in her amusement at seeing his predicament. Well, when she saw most of his predicament, as some of it was extremely well hidden fortunately.

Donna mouthed at him 'Don't get any ideas, Spaceman!' before calling out, "I'm in, Martha!" but she was too late; ideas where dancing around his head as he gazed at her bare flesh. So many ways that her creamy white skin could be explored if he could only reach out a hand to smooth those luscious curves…

"Good!" Martha called back and then there was the sound of her shuffling about "This makes this a bit easier for me, actually. Do you know if the Doctor ever thinks about me?"

'Oh my gawd!' he thought; 'No I bloody don't! Especially when Donna is…' Donna had raised an eyebrow in question at him so he shook his head. Having a brainwave, he tried to distract her by handing her the soap, but she glanced down at her hands, and mouthed, 'I can't!' Oops! He'd forgotten momentarily that she couldn't, or wouldn't move her hands, even though he was tempted to send her subliminal messages to do so. Instead, he motioned for her to swivel round and began to lather up her back. 'Now this was a safe activity,' he decided, 'one where I won't stray to unwanted places with _any_ part of my body'. The fact that he could also place his hands on her body and mentally trace the freckles there as they exploded all over her flesh had nothing to do with it. Nothing at all.

Donna let out a small gasp. "As far as I know he doesn't. Why?"

"I just wondered," was the answer. "That was a daft time in my life."

The soap was lathering quite nicely for a few milliseconds, before swooshing down her back in bubbly rivulets down towards… dangerous territories! Very dangerous. 'Must do something else instead,' he told himself, 'and not look down towards… a bottle! Thank goodness hotels have bottles!'

Donna was saying something else, something consoling, but he wasn't paying attention now. He'd found a bottle of shampoo that he could play with by washing Donna's hair. He was in agreement with himself; this was a brilliant idea. As the Doctor tugged her shoulders back towards him, he heard her gasp, and brought her directly under the showerhead. He didn't look down at her body over her shoulder, oh no! He certainly didn't do that! And he didn't think about her naked body as it came into closer contact with him; definitely no! Well, maybe, just a little. 'Quick, quick, the bottle,' he thought, hurriedly opening the cap and splodging some on to her head. He happily massaged in the shampoo, humming silently as he did so. He knew just the right song to use too. It was like a form of meditation.

His happiness grew when Donna leant back into his touch, obviously enjoying his administrations. Her weight against him began to feed other flights of fancy; thoughts where he wondered what it would be like to do this all the time, to have free rein to caress her whenever he liked. How wonderful would her skin feel if he...

Donna commentating, "It's not called pre-wedding nerves for nothing!" brought him out of his revelry and back firmly into the room. He shifted position slightly to try and ease his discomfort, hoping that Donna would not notice.

"Thank you, Donna. I knew there was a reason I'd kept you as a friend," Martha chuckled. 'Hmm, that Martha was always a generous girl,' he thought. He tilted Donna's head under the falling water to rinse out the suds, and got lost in the delights of running his fingers through her now increasingly squeaky clean hair.

"Yes, so that I can look like a dog's dinner while you look beautiful in comparison. But I won't hold it against you," Donna mockingly griped, and the Doctor could not hold in his laughter without making a lightly snorting sound. He was sure she would forgive him for that one. "Can you pass me a towel before you go?"

She was going? Oh, thank goodness! He'd be able to escape from this eternal bittersweet hell without further embarrassing himself and Donna at this rate.

"Of course!" Martha replied, and Donna blindly sought out the towel being offered. "I'll leave you to finish in here, and I'll meet you downstairs later." The Doctor gentlemanly shut his eyes in anticipation of the towel being applied as the sound of Martha opening the bathroom door reached them; it only occurred to him then that he could have kept them shut the whole time. "Bye!" Martha called out, bringing instant relief, and he felt himself relax a bit.

"Bye!" Donna replied as the Doctor bent down to shut off the water and quickly stood again before he was tempted to open his eyes. They stood stock still together, holding their breath until the outer door could be heard to close. "Well… that was a new experience," Donna remarked as she wrapped the towel around herself and he allowed himself to peek. "Thanks for the helping hand," she said as she turned to face him. "Bloody hell you look wet!"

"Thanks for telling me; I'd have never known otherwise," he replied as sarcastically as he could. He'd had a good teacher recently. The very same teacher that was standing in front of him in just a towel that exposed her naked shoulders (there was the 'naked' word again) and her equally naked legs. He found he could cope by focusing on her eyes... a terrific place to start in the circumstances.

"Watch it, Sunshine, if you want me to pass you a towel," she growled at him. She then caught him completely unawares by pressing a hand to his cheek, softly saying, "Sorry." He wanted to melt against that hand, and deliberately held himself rigid; very ironic that.

He smirked. "It had to happen eventually, I suppose," he answered, accepting a small towel to wipe his face. "I assume we're not going to tell anyone about this?" If he knew Donna it would never be mentioned again, in company.

"Good grief, no!" she agreed, to his relief. She held a large towel up for him, "Come on then, get your kit off."

He felt something escape from his body. "What?" he exclaimed in shock. "I can't do that!" She hadn't said that really, had she?

"You can't squelch about in wet clothes, either, so get them off," she ordered him; giving him what could easily become the glare-of-death. "You'll chafe otherwise."

He looked down at himself, back at her, and knew the wisdom of her words worked in countersink to his desires. Could he? Should he? Was it allowed? And was being happy about it acceptable in any way? There was only one way to find out, so he began to unfasten his jacket. "If you make one snide remark…!" he warned her, just in case.

Hmm, she did the towel holding curtain thing. Did that mean she was genuinely uninterested in seeing him naked, or was this some sort of modesty?

He thought it best not to look her in the eye as he divested himself of his underwear, and she handed over the towel so that he could cover himself up with it. Ah, next was the chore of wringing his clothes out together to distract his thoughts. He didn't even risk the tactic of telling himself not to think about standing next to Donna in hardly anything between them; that would have been suicidal! He was doing pretty well, concentrating on squeezing the life out of his trousers, until she teased him by saying, "I must admit I never thought I'd have my hands on your shirt like this. Could have been worse; at least you spared me your underwear."

The saucy minx! She was thinking about his underwear of all things. Perhaps this could play out with interesting consequences? "When I show a girl a good time it's memorable," he grinned at her.

"It's certainly that!" she agreed as he watched her head out into the outer room. Searching the wardrobe for the ironing board and iron indeed! Okay, she might genuinely be doing that; but where there's hope there's life, he told himself. At least he'd gained an excellent anecdote about the time they were stark-naked together! Something he could use later…


	10. Chapter 11

**A/N:** In light of requests from **KendraC** and bumblebee_2012, I present to you another POV.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 11 [aka Part 2 - the Doctor's POV]<strong>

.

It had been glorious to wake up with Donna in his arms that morning. It had been sensual, intimate, and out and out fun! If he played his cards right this could become part of their morning routine. He was sure Donna had enjoyed their cuddling as much as him. The other, more personal business, well, that can stay hidden for now…

It would have to stay hidden after his reaction to Donna wearing that bridesmaids dress. It hadn't been as bad as when he was in the shower but… it was pretty close! He had felt himself go all mushy inside; decidedly weird. And he'd thought not being able to concentrate on tinkering in the TARDIS had been unusual. He had wondered at one point if the TARDIS was deliberately distracting his thoughts on to Donna; he wouldn't put it passed her. She was as big a minx as Donna was.

To add to the weirdness, he had to back out of the wedding reception in an attempt to stop Donna being caught by some little old lady. Still, Donna had readily agreed to tell everyone they were together; for her own protection mark you, and not for any other dubious reason. Because they weren't like that, not in the slightest, even though it kept being suggested they were. He'd thought it carefully over, and it was crystal clear to him; people were generally deluded. Simple!

That had made him think of Jack for some reason. That man had more hands than an octopus; if they actually had, you know, hands. Maybe it would be better if Jack _did_ think he and Donna were a couple? Most people would be put off by such a thought. Most normal people. Pity Jack was nowhere near normal. Jack would probably find it highly erotic... It was best to keep Jack completely out of the picture.

He was pondering this, and the possible scenarios Jack would dream up if he could see them together in the corridor when his internal alarm went off. The darkness of the corridor they'd just walked into had him instantly worried. He started to pull Donna nearer, wanting to protect her. "I don't remember it being this dark," Donna told him a hushed voice.

'Jack!' he growled. 'Exactly! And if I'm not mistaken someone has designs on you,' he thought. "That's because it wasn't," he answered "This looks like someone deliberately…" But he didn't have the chance to say much beyond that. Two large hands pushed them from the side. What the hell are you…? The sideways thrust caused them to lose their footing

"Doctor! Watch out!" Donna shrieked, almost deafening him, as they fell backwards into a cupboard and the door was slammed shut on them.

Why did everyone want them thrown into the dark? This was getting to be too common. Though what was he saying? This had Jack written all over it. At least he still had hold of Donna; or to be precise, she still had hold of him. Right round the throat, making his respiratory bypass want to kick in again. It was worth it just to have Donna nestled up so closely. "Donna! You can let go of my throat now!" he wheezed out. 'It's just a hug; it's just a hug' he internally chanted to himself, in an attempt to ward off another shower incident. "DON'T THINK ABOUT THE SHOWER!' he ordered his body. Fortunately his body was quite obedient. "Thanks," he quickly added in gratitude. Then his body yelled back, 'She's beneath me…. being all soft and…GUH!'

"Are you thanking me for breaking your fall?" Donna asked from below him. "Or for providing a soft cushion while we're down here?"

'I was mainly thanking Rassilon' he instantly thought in reply. He gazed down at her in the half-light and blustered, "A bit of both, to be honest. You _do_ make a very fine floor cushion, but I can tell you won't be offering yourself out for that… Not that I'm suggesting you tend to offer yourself out, or that…"

"Shut up, Timeboy! Or I'll keep mentioning your need to prod me in unwanted places," she reprimanded him.

'I didn't?' he panicked; and began to take an inventory of his body parts that could be causing the problem. Nope, all still obeying earlier orders. Phew! He was in the clear. "Unwanted places? Do you mean bodily or situation wise?" he asked with a slight grin of relief.

"I'll let you decide that one; but it's not all good," she replied.

Oh, I see; like that, is it? "So some of it _is_ good then? That's nice to know," he smirked, happy in the knowledge that things still weren't hopeless.

'Ouch!' he exclaimed as she swatted his arm as hard as she could. "You'll get a punch on the nose if you continue to be this saucy with me!" 'Saucy? Nah! Though you seem to like saucy,' he noticed. He felt laughter bubble up through her. "You couldn't resist getting up close and personal with me again, huh?"

Of course! "Yep! I seem to have fallen for you," he saucily quipped. "Must be due to you flashing your naked body at me last night." Now get out of that one, Donna Noble!

"I did not! That was a complete coincidence," she protested. "And don't pretend I had any effect on you."

She what…? Did she just say…? Cheek! "How do you know if you did or not? I'm not completely made of stone you know," he angrily retorted.

She snorted at him; she actually snorted at him! "How do I know? Aroused men don't start washing your hair; they try to do other things."

'Who said I wasn't aroused?' "What other things? And how many times have you been caught in a shower like that?" he demanded. This sounded too much like she'd done this before. Who with? 'I'll kill him!'

"Well obviously it happened every Saturday night…," she said in a teasing voice. He took in a breath of relief. "Once, Dumbo, just the once! But I wasn't talking about that bit. I meant being in a shower with a man; and no, don't look at me like that! I don't tend to do that sort of thing so you should know better than to ask. But… you have to admit…"

'No I don't!' This was getting confusing. "I have to admit what? What are you getting at?" he asked.

She hesitated in answering, "You weren't… responding."

'Thank Rassilon I wasn't!' "I thought that was the whole point; you didn't want me to say anything while Martha was in the room. Or did I get it wrong again?" he asked, deciding to play dumb.

She giggled in amusement. "You are such a dimnoid at times! Only you could stand with a naked woman and not see that would be awkward," she told him.

"That is so _not_ true!" he defended himself as his body screamed, 'KISS HER!' He was getting totally pissed off with his body.

Donna spoke soothingly to him, "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you're that way; I'd have never stepped into the shower if I thought you'd behave any other way. Though I confess I was mortified you saw me in the buff."

'So was I.' "You covered yourself up with your hands," he reasoned. "It wasn't as if you were flaunting yourself, was it?" He thought carefully. Nope, she hadn't been flaunting anything; quite the reverse in fact.

"How much did you actually notice?" she asked. "'Cos my hands aren't that big."

Well, he had noticed her hands weren't that big either; giving him a hint or three how large… 'STOP THINKING ABOUT THE SHOWER!' "I erm… I was looking at your hair most of the time and… and… I know you wouldn't…," he spluttered, trying to rein back his thoughts.

"Do you ever feel…? No, I shouldn't ask that; it's rude of me," she halted her question hastily and changed the subject. "I suppose we should be considering getting out of here."

'Oh no! You don't get out of it _that_ easily' "Donna, you know you can ask me anything you like; you know that, surely?" he reminded her as he tried to help her up despite the efforts of several objects in the cupboard to stop them.

Her arms were still around his neck, as they hovered halfway off the floor. "I know; but that doesn't mean I should. I do like that aftershave on you by the way," she told him, giving his neck a cautious sniff as she leant in closer.

'That's it, come to the Doctor,' he tried to entice her. In return his senses were filled with her aroma, almost to breaking point. "I should hope you would! You bought it for me." he gave her his best grin; well, he hoped it was his best grin. 'Just a bit higher.'

She took a deep sniff. "Is that the one?" she asked. Her head had lifted to line up with his, he noted with glee, so he began to move forward…

At that precise moment the cupboard door was thrust open. Oh for the love of…! Martha stood gawping at the two of them entwined together. It flashed through his mind if he should bother letting go.

"Are you two at it again? Thank goodness I didn't catch you naked this time!" Martha shrieked at them.

They released each other pretty sharpish after that. One thought and one thought only whirled his mind, summed up by one apt word. 'Bugger!'


	11. Chapter 12

**Part 12 [aka Part 3 - the Doctor's POV]**

.

They'd ran from the reception, giggling with delight when they'd emerged from the lift, raced down the corridor and burst through the door to Donna's hotel bedroom. It had been a thrilling run for the pair of them. That was one of the things he loved liked about Donna; that she would run with him.

Okay, she didn't always have the breasts... I mean... breath for it, like at that moment because her corset was giving her jip. She gesticulated at him wildly to unzip her bridesmaid dress, and he willingly obliged. He didn't question himself as to why he was willing to release her from her dress. He didn't right up to the moment he realised she was starting to peel it off in front of him! His hearts beat madly in his chest in anticipation and embarrassment that he was feeling that way. He tried turning gentlemanly around but he could still see her reflected in the television, taunting him with her seductive movements. Well, they looked seductive to him, despite her not looking at him. "You could have warned me," he sulkily pouted in defence.

Donna chuckled at his demise. The minx! "You've seen more than this. Why the sudden need to go coy on me?"

He turned then to face her, feeling the increasing need to (what was the word?) defend himself. Yes that was it. "Because..," he began to answer. Well blow him if she wasn't in her ivory underwear and matching stockings! All luscious and curvaceous… and things. His body decided to gain interest at this point, at an alarming rate. He only just got out the command 'STOP!' "… that was different. You virtually thrust your naked body upon me yesterday. Not that I'm saying yours is a horrible body… or that I didn't want to look…" He knew he was bumbling, but he couldn't help it as his gaze slipped down to her cleavage and fought hard to get back up again to her face. It had taken all his mental effort to do so. "But you know what I mean," he ended lamely. She was going to kill him for ogling her; any moment now! So he smiled his whimsiest smile to ward off the blow.

Something had spooked her because she pointed and made off towards the bathroom. "I'd better grab the dressing gown, and then we can talk, Spaceman," she said hesitantly. "You do want us to talk about this, don't you?" she asked as she took a step away from him.

'No! Whatever makes you think I want to discuss this? Surely you can see I'm falling apart here? Or maybe not considering how you're looking at me.' The Doctor perched himself on the edge of the bed, and frowned as best he could. "What exactly are we talking about this time? Has something happened I don't know about?

Donna reappeared from the bathroom wearing the bathrobe and then crossed the room to sit next to him. "I should hope you do know otherwise someone is going around doing an awfully good impersonation of you! I'm referring to our fake wedding. What are we going to do about it? Or don't you care what your friends think?" 'Erm... Consummate it? In a totally non-fake sort of way. Please? Or perhaps we could... Oops! Got to pay attention properly now.'

Pouting slightly, he quickly replied, "I do! Just not all the time; and Donna," he paused, needing to hold her hand in his, "does it really matter what they think? We know the truth. It's just another anecdote for us to add to our 'great big book of times we were mistaken for a married couple'." Nope, just holding her hand wasn't enough; he needed to touch her a bit more so he raised his free hand to remove a stray wisp of hair from her face. "Nothing more, nothing less." His body started that thing again. That annoying thing where it yelled 'KISS HER!' He was going to have words with himself later for dereliction of duty!

She trembled before replying, "But Doctor, Martha has this idea that we keep…"

'Kissing? Fondling each other? Making each other scream in ecstasy? And why the heck can't I stop thinking about you and me and... On a waterbed of all places!' "We keep what?" he asked as calmly as he could.

'Oh no! She was going to cry! Please don't cry, Donna. I'll be even more tempted to take you in my arms and... And show myself up, basically.' "She thinks I'm a nymphomaniac!" she tearfully got out.

'Nope, not making the most of this opportunity in the slightest… just a bit… maybe.' "Oh Donna!" he cried, and pulled her surreptitiously into his embrace. "I'm sure she thinks nothing of the sort," he consoled her. He nuzzled his cheek against her head and tenderly stroked her hair. For purely consoling means, of course, and for no personal benefits. Ah, she smelt lovely! And her hair was _so _soft as he caressed his way down it, with its wonderful gingerness and essence of vanilla wafting up to tease him. Yes, it was all her hair's fault, now that he thought about it. Though it was best not to think about it...

"She does! I saw how she looked at us. She probably thinks we're up to all sorts of kinky stuff right this second." Donna sobbed in his arms. Well that just asked for a special squeeze and cuddle from him, didn't it?

He gave a chuckle of delight. "What sort of kinky things do you think she suspects us of?" 'Hopefully nothing involving swinging from the chandelier; I gave all that up centuries ago. Now if you fancy being covered in chocolate and banana sauce...'

"Me as some sort of sex slave doing the Dance of the Seven Veils before being tied to the bed," she mused, smiling and wiping her eyes. 'Hmm, veils could work quite nicely. Especially when you get down to the very last one and all that's left is flimsy material covering your delicious breasts. STOP THINKING ABOUT THE SHOWER! And while you're at it, STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT BLOODY VEIL! Try...ooh I dunno...that revealing purple dress?'

"Like in Pompeii?" he asked, brightening up. "That was a very fetching outfit." Seeing her arch an eyebrow in question, he added, "But not as lovely as your bridesmaid dress."

'Phew! That was a close one.' "Did you really like it?" she quizzed him.

'Oh my love! You don't believe me, do you? I can see I'm going to have to convince you how beautiful you are.' "Like isn't a strong enough word. I thought you outshone the bride," he reluctantly admitted.

She scoffed at him, and then batted at his chest, though it was a bit feeble. "Geroff! Nobody could look better than Martha does."

Right! That did it! He wasn't having her go around thinking what plainly wasn't true. He cradled her face in his hands, and sincerely told her, "Believe me when I tell you, Donna Noble, you are beautiful." He placed a kiss carefully on her forehead. The urge was to do so much more, but he held himself back.

She scornfully watched him. "Oh I see! I've become a pseudo daughter, have I?"

'If so, then I'm having incestuous thoughts. Come here and let me prove otherwise, gorgeous!' He grinned in amusement at her. "No, I don't think of you as a daughter. You're my friend; my best friend," he said. He placed a kiss on her cheek this time.

She laughed, to his delight, and then said, "Now I've become a maiden aunt! I really can't win here."

'Ooh, a challenge. Now how can I make you feel exactly what I want you to feel?' "Then I'll have to change the position to prove you have," he near whispered, and moved closer still to place what he hopefully would be considered a chaste kiss directly on her lips. He liked it so much he considered doing it again. In the next few seconds if he could get away with it.

"That's better," she muttered just as he did so again, catching her unawares.

'You're liking this, you little minx! I can feel you giggling beneath me, setting me on fire. I'll show you!' He kept his lips there to tease her. 'Oh Rassilon! You're kissing back. You won't win this little game.' He carried on thinking that as they continued to give each other little pecks that grew longer with each placement. 'You won't win this game at all, until I have finished enjoying this.' Their kisses grew into proper kisses shared with enjoyment. When they broke apart they rested their foreheads together, smirking.

"Are we allowed to do that?" Donna asked fretfully. 'Too bloody right we are! In fact we're allowed to go much further. Some base or other, I think Americans might say. I'd much rather be bowled out for a maiden! Ha ha. And definitely no sticky wickets! Okay, must stop thinking of bad cricket puns now.'

"I don't see why not. They do think we are married after all," the Doctor replied. Should he risk an eyebrow waggle?

"Yes, we have all the markings of a married couple. We share the odd kiss and never have sex." she agreed.

"It's a hard job, but somebody has got to do it." The Doctor felt he could risk an eyebrow waggle at her now. "Do you fancy having some more not-having-sex?" 'Working our way quickly onto the real stuff; when you feel like it, obviously. I'm not trying to force you into anything. Unless you're into bondage, in which case you might like being forced into something. And, oh my god; I'm allowed to think about the shower finally!'

Donna pretended to think it over. "Yeah, go on; you've talked me into it." 'Yippee! Some delicious non-sex coming right up! Okay, bad choice of words that. Body! Keep it down. I'll let you know when.'

This needed careful manipulation; preferably in a reclining position. So he leaned them back down onto the bed. The Doctor and the Donna. No, that didn't sound right. Hmm, what should he call her? 'Busty' sprang to mind. Not sure that would be a good idea. Not very PC. "Have you thought of a title yet?" he asked her.

He tried to stop her from sitting up again. "What are we doing? Thinking of our autobiographies or something?" she wondered.

'Who cares? Come here and let me ravish you, woman!' "Your title if you're are supposed to be my wife," he clarified, gently tipping her back down onto the pillows once more.

"Oh, that! I was thinking Mrs Donna Depp." She smiled sweetly at him. She had the cheek to think it funny!

'Him! Bloody him!' "Johnny Depp. Again!" he whined after groaning.

"And why not if I've got to pretend to be married to someone," she reasoned. She stroked his sideburn with a consoling touch, causing all sorts of sensations to cascade through his mind. "Or do you think I should seriously come up with a title for being your wife?"

'Hmm; wife! I like the sound of that more by the minute.' He drew her further into his embrace, shifting position slightly on the bed as he did so. "I think it would help, especially as you said you'd be travelling with me forever."

"So I did," she agreed, wrapping her arms around his neck, bringing his face nearer still. 'That's it, come to the Doctor.' "Does that worry you?" 'Only if you don't kiss me again.'

"No, not unless it worries you. I'm quite happy with the thought of being able to do this…," he said sultrily. He kissed her tenderly; very tenderly. 'This is good! This is oh so good!'

He pressed against her lips with his tongue and she opened to him. Oh Rassilon! She tasted fantastic! How could he pass this off if she didn't like it? Would she buy friends-with-benefits? He just knew that he wanted more of this; more of her. Without realising it he had moved his body, settling between her legs, as he deepened their kiss; sweeping his tongue over hers; relishing in her taste. He wanted this moment to go on for ever!

And at that moment the phone rang, ruining everything. The Doctor felt anger swell up in him. "What?" he exclaimed, and petulantly lifted the receiver to demand, "Yes?"

Martha was on the other end of the line, gabbling on about needing Donna to do bridesmaid duties. Oh for the love of…! To say he reacted badly was an understatement. Right at that second he could have cheerfully throttled Martha. In hindsight perhaps he shouldn't have yelled at her, "What do you think we were doing? We're lying here enjoying ourselves and _you_ have just interrupted us!" because Donna looked flabbergasted at that. And adding, "Donna and I were in the middle of… of… something important here," probably wasn't much better.

The next thing he knew, Donna was telling Martha she'd get dressed and be right down. Right down! Hell's bells this wasn't fair! "I'm sorry, it looks like we'll have to do this another time," she told him. He could tell she was holding in a giggle, but he couldn't help how crestfallen he looked. He felt bereft! This opportunity was disappearing fast.

'This is so not fair! I was enjoying this; us!' "Who do you have to dance with? Anyone in particular?" he asked. 'You'd better not be thinking of someone else. You're _mine_ now!'

She turned a teasing smile on him. "I'd assume it has to be you, oh pretend-husband of mine. But if you want to bail I'll get someone like Jack up instead." What?

That really did it! He was fuming! "I don't think so! And certainly not without me doing this first." 'Jack indeed! He certainly can't do this to you…!' And with that he forced her to give him a searing kiss that did things other kisses couldn't reach. This was turning out to be a good day. Oh yes!

Now, if he could just work out how to keep her in the bedroom… Bugger!


	12. Chapter 13

**Part 13 [aka Part 3 - the Doctor's POV Scene 2]**

.

Entering the reception room mean being immediately greeted by Jack. To add insult to injury Jack wore an extremely smug grin as he asked them, "Have you been doing anything interesting since I last saw you?" 'Getting bloody disturbed!' the Doctor wanted to respond; apart from also wanting to punch Jack right in his conceited face. Oops! You're not supposed to want that.

He held tightly onto Donna's hand as she asked where Martha and Mickey were, hoping they'd be out of there pretty quickly; but that was when Great Aunt Maud accosted them, clasping Donna's free hand. Now what was being said?

Great Aunt Maud trilled at Donna, "You should have told me earlier, you naughty young woman! I wouldn't have tried to pair you off with anyone if I had known you'd already captured a man." He felt her eye him up and down; and he fought hard not to glare at her for trying to pair off his Donna. "And quite a fine looking one at that. Take no notice of what I said earlier about him being flighty." Flighty? Flighty! Flipping cheek! He didn't catch what she said after that as he was busy being appalled she leered at him, but she soon tootled off after bizarrely patting Donna on the stomach. What was all that about?

Loud music almost drowned out him asking, "What did she say?"

He didn't get an answer because Martha yelled, "Donna! Dance!" at them. What the…? 'What are we? Dancing monkeys?' he considered fuming. Though dancing could be good; very good. Dancing involved closely moving bodies, sharing the same rhythm as they moved in sync.

Donna stood waiting for him as he beamed at her. He wanted her to be always waiting for him. Taking Donna's proffered hand, the Doctor steered them into a slow waltz. He would have enjoyed it more if so many eyes weren't on them; but that quickly changed when several older members of Martha's family got up onto the dancefloor. The situation was beginning to look miles better as he pulled Donna's body into his, as an act of protection from marauding old ladies. He brought his lips close to her ear, wanting to press a kiss or three there, and he took in several rapturous sniffs of her skin. Ooh this was delicious! Then he thought to whisper the question, "What was all the tummy patting for?"

He regretted the question as soon as she drew back from his embrace. Donna looked mortified. "She seems to think I'm pregnant," she told him. What? Had he heard correctly?

"Pregnant!" he echoed loudly. Surely she hadn't really said that! Who in their right mind would think she was pregnant? 'Especially as we haven't yet…'

There was a gasp and an extremely loud squeal from beside them. 'Oh no! Someone has bloody well heard!' Yep, there was Martha advancing on them at a fast rate. 'Back off, Martha!' he tried glaring at her, but she was in full flow. "You must be so happy! Congratulations!" Martha yelled out, hugging them both.

Oh for the love of… 'Somebody stop this madness!' But it got worse instead. Mickey started shaking his hand, uttering congratulations too, as he felt Donna clasping his arm in desperation. Her concern rode off her in waves. 'Don't worry, my love. We'll soon be out of here, away from these deluded people,' he wanted to tell her, but Martha and Mickey wouldn't leave them alone. 'Bugger off!' he mentally yelled, right before the DJ got in on the act.

'You are kidding me!' he thought; but no, the DJ really did announce to the whole room that bridesmaid Donna and her husband were expecting their first child. 'Just shoot me now,' he wanted to cry out as the wedding guests politely clapped.

He willing held out his arms for Donna as she flung herself at him. 'I'm here, my love, I'm all yours' "Please get us out of here! Please! Before the news works its way to Mum," she quietly begged him. He allowed her to bury herself in his shoulder, doing likewise into her hair. 'This will soon be over; this will soon be over,' he chanted for the two of them.

The DJ enthused as he watched them, "Aw look! Isn't that wonderful?" 'I'll give you bloody wonderful!'

"He won't think it's wonderful when I fuse his equipment," the Doctor muttered to Donna, and was glad to feel her giggle against his neck. Reluctantly lifting his head, he plastered on a smile for the benefit of the room.

"What's the matter, Donna?" Martha touched her arm in concern. 'Just leave us alone! Haven't you caused enough damage?'

"She's feeling a bit off colour," the Doctor calmly explained. "I think I'd better take her home. Do you mind if we go?"

There was a certain amount of fuss before he managed to extract them, finally, from the bridal party, having made appropriate concerned faces to whoever spoke to them. As soon as they escaped outside he guided Donna back upstairs. 'Yay, we are free!' he'd wanted to boast but Donna was crying when they reached the room.

'Oh my love, don't cry; please don't cry,' he thought as he wiped away her tears."Sh-sh-sh! It's okay. We've been in worse scrapes."

"I know! But I don't normally find out I'm married and up the duff afterwards all in one day," she wailed. What was she thinking? Up the duff!

"Er… newsflash, Donna! You aren't that now," he futilely pointed out. 'Just get a grip, love.'

"Thanks, Sunshine, because I had no idea for a second!" She glared at him with contempt.

You can't get it right all the time! "I was only trying to help," he retorted.

"That sort of help I can do without. Now how do I explain the fact there is no baby? Come on, I need to know," she told him. 'I could always get you pregnant. No? What else can I suggest?'

"How about we… sort of… lost it?" he offered lamely.

"They're not going to buy that! You don't leave a baby just lying around like a set of car keys, you dimnoid!" she demanded. "People will want details; and they'll ask lots of questions, and then what will they think of me?" And she began to cry again in his arms.

'Oh Donna!' He loosened his hold to pull out a large white handkerchief from his jacket, ignoring his need to take advantage of the situation, and proceeded to dab at her eyes with it. "They'll think exactly what they already think about you; that you are brilliant, and that I'm an extremely lucky man," he insisted for her benefit as well as his own.

"Why are you lucky?" she quickly asked, to his consternation. Erm… all the usual reasons.

'Should I say it?' "Because you are my…wife," he mumbled the last word in embarrassment.

She teased him then, the little minx! "Now who's delusional?"

He gave into his need to touch her without a second thought, and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers tenderly. "I don't care as long as I have you with me," he said. 'Stay with me, please!'

He gazed at her as sincerely as he could. "I think we need to stop playing this game now, don't you? This is getting dangerous," she whispered.

'Dangerous? How exactly is this dangerous? Don't you want me after all?' He sighed heavily, "Yes, you are right. I think it's time we went home and got away from this bizarre place."

"And I thought it was just my own weddings I messed up," Donna mused. 'Oh, you're changing the subject. I see.' He chuckled with her nevertheless; he didn't want her thinking he was suffering from sour grapes.

Feeling that things were escaping from his grasp, he held out his arm to her. "Come on then, Mrs Donna Depp; let's get you into your own bed and safely away from here."

"I've changed my mind," she told him. 'What? You want me after all?' "I think I'll stick to Ms Donna Noble." He felt his hearts sink.

"A very wise choice," he agreed, guided her into the TARDIS and shut the door. There was always tomorrow after all. With that thought in mind he led them into her... their... bedroom.


	13. Chapter 14

**Part 14 [aka Part 4 - the Doctor's POV]**

.

Ah, home sweet home! 'Let's see if I can put all that wedding nonsense behind us and stop perving over Donna' "Tea? Personally I could murder a cup," the Doctor offered her, and nodded towards the kitchen.

Donna smiled her agreement at him; that smile that always made him feel better. "Oh, definitely; I need a nice cup of tea, a bit of a sit down and the chance to take these shoes off. I've forgotten how deadly wearing heels is." Hmm. Deadly heels that sat at the end of killer legs and a wicked body, he noted.

Should he risk telling her the truth? About the outfit… not the rest of earlier, he wasn't suicidal after all! "I'd say the whole outfit has a deadly affect. Are you allowed to keep the dress or do we have to go back?" he asked as he swept his gaze over her. Feeling confident with his new, improved, ability to cope, he took her hand and guided her towards the kitchen.

He felt that confidence start to crumble when she gave him her sheepish smile. "I can keep it, but I might have to go back… I left some clothes in Francine's room." What clothes? Do you mean when you changed in that ivory underwear with the matching lace and the tiny bows that emphasised the femininity of the ensemble and the creamy texture of your skin as it pressed lightly against it, making my fingers itch to release you from the confines of the elastic? Not that I was looking that closely…

Now what can I say to make her feel better? Ooh, I know! "Don't fret about it. I'm sure they can leave a few items of clothing with your mum." he told her, and pulled out a chair for her to sit down. Yeah that's quite a good suggestion now he thought about it. Right; tea!

A gasp from Donna caught his attention. "Oh my God! Mum! They'll blab and then I'll really be in it." Oh heck! He hadn't thought about Sylvia's reaction. That could ruin everything for them...erm... him.

'Oh my poor precious! I'll make it better for you; please let me try.' He rushed to clasp her hands, but noticed a traitorous tear forming on her cheek. Without thinking he wiped it away with his thumb. "Donna, we'll get through this; together. Please don't cry again; it's only a stupid rumour. Honestly, love, it isn't worth it." 'Oh to be a tear upon thy cheek so that I may rest awhile beneath thy beauty'

Donna bitterly said, "That's easy for you to say. You can just waltz off onto another adventure, but I have to face people up close and personal. Mum can make my life a living hell if she wants to." Not if I make her's one instead!

Don't ruin this moment, you gonk! Do something reassuring… like erm… rub her hands. "Donna, do I need to point out that you don't live at home anymore? You live here with me. You do intend to stay with me, don't you?" he asked hesitantly. Please say 'yes'! Oh please!

"Of course I do! I have no intention of ever going home to live," she insisted intently.

Time to push this further then. "Then shouldn't you call this home?" he suggested. Oh Rassilon, now I've put the cat among the pigeons!

A smile! Thank goodness I got a smile. "Yes, you're right. Home is here, with you," she replied. 'Don't ever leave me; just hug me like this for ever more' he thought as he buried his face in the scents from her neck and hair.

~o~

They woke with the Doctor's arms around Donna again. He grinned with delight at having gotten away with it once more. Unable to resist the urge, he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Are you awake, Donna?" he whispered.

To his increased delight, she whispered playfully back, "No, I'm sound-o."

"Thought so. You must be dreaming this bit," he replied with a chuckle, and gave her waist a squeeze.

He released her body so that she could wriggle round to face him. A mischievous grin lit up her face as she told him, "It must be a nightmare if you're in here with me. Is it worth screaming for help?"

Oh really? This could be promising. "Depends how far away I am when you scream. I could be very close indeed." He smirked at her in satisfaction.#

'I'm sure poking in the chest means something. Sexual desire if I'm lucky.' "Promises, promises, Spaceman. Unless you are the one making me scream, and… Oh!" Her tirade finished just as she suddenly blushed in embarrassment.

Definitely promising now! "What? What have I done now?" he asked her in as innocent way as he could muster.

Things only got better. "You haven't done anything yet," she replied. He held in his delight as another wave of embarrassment caused her to cover up her face. Oh my darling Donna! You have got it bad. Hee hee!

Time to uncover your beautifully flushed face. He gently removed her hands and moved closer. "What exactly am I supposed to be doing to you?" he asked.

"Nothing," she stammered out. Did she really do that? Yes, she flickered her gaze to his lips.

This needs action; now! "We have unfinished business from yesterday, if memory serves me right; just before we were rudely interrupted," he stated.

He could see her breathing erratically. "The phone call... We were…," she recalled.

He released her hands, letting them fall onto his shoulders, before tenderly grasping her jaw; trying to decide which way to kiss her first. "Yes we were," he confirmed quietly. "Shall we?" Okay, let's try this out. Ooh! She didn't flinch or protest!

Oh no! You don't get to say anything to spoil this, Sweetheart! I'm going to kiss you properly… right on those gorgeous ripe lips of yours. Oh my… you taste wonderful… you feel mmm… Oh yes! And later on I'm going to show you how that translates when I taste the rest of you, because I intend to never let you go.

"That's a nice way to wake up. Am I going to get that every morning now?" she asked when they inevitably broke apart.

I think that's a promise. "Oh that depends. Will I be allowed back here again in your bed?" he replied.

Looks like that might be a 'yes'. She reached up to pull him to her. "I think it can be arranged, if you want to stay."

Oh boy, do I! Try stopping me. "I definitely want to stay, if you'll have me," he murmured intensely.

"What would my mother say if she saw us like this?" she asked. Who? Oh my gawd!

"Sylvia!" he gasped. "I'd forgotten about her." I feel ill! Horribly ill… almost as if… Don't look at me like that; please don't!

"You're not frightened of her, are you?" she demanded. "Surely not. Tell me you're not! Doctor, what is it?"

Got to get away... Need to… "I feel sick!" he announced, and then fled to the bathroom.

Stupid stomach! Fancy reacting this way. "Bloody morning sickness," he heard her gripe as he raced to the toilet pan. Way to go, Doctor! You sexy beast.

~o~

Why was this a good idea again? Facing Sylvia Noble was never a good idea, unless you are asking for her daughter's hand in marriage, and even then it's a suicide mission. Though Wilf was a different kettle of fish; that man would suffocate you with hugs given half a chance. Sitting in Sylvia's lounge, eating Sylvia's food and drinking Sylvia's tea was doubly embarrassing knowing you'd shared a bed with her daughter the last few nights. It would have been worse if she knew he wanted to do more in that bed than sleep with Donna; but that was by the by. They had taken that first step towards a more adult relationship, and without parental permission.

And to top it all, Sylvia was watching him surreptitiously as they tucked into ham sandwiches. He could feel her eyes boring into him. The appearance of the parcel from Tish was a complete surprise to him though.

"Donna," she said when she reappeared. "This was left for you." Sylvia handed over the bag containing Donna's pre-wedding outfit. "Someone called Tish brought it round."

Donna had stared at it with apprehension. He could feel it coming off her in waves. "Oh, Tish! How was she?" It's okay, Donna; I'm here for you.

Sylvia had sat down to sip her tea. "Fine. She's a lovely girl. She told me all about the wedding."

Wedding? Oh hell's bells! 'And poor Donna is choking on her sandwich.' He patted her on the back to clear her airway. "Are you alright?" he asked with deep concern. He kept a hand on her just in case; he didn't want to risk anything happening to her now.

Oh look at you trying to smile at me. "I'll be okay," she said hoarsely.

"You look a bit worried, Donna," Wilf commented. "Was it something about the wedding." Too right it was!

He felt Donna take a deep breath. "Oh no, Gramps. I'm fine about it. Are you okay about it?" she asked, frowning slightly.

The Doctor grasped her hand as they waited for his response. "Well, I can't say I'm not a little disappointed that we didn't know about it at the time, but I'm sure you had your reasons for not telling us," Wilf answered. What? You truly don't mind? Wow! You are amazing!

Sylvia scoffed at him, "What do you mean a little disappointed? You were upset you couldn't see Donna in her finery." Ah! Thought so!

"I admit that's true," Wilf agreed. "I'm sure Donna looked absolutely lovely at the wedding." Lovely? She was absolutely gorgeous!

"She did look lovely, Wilf," the Doctor remarked, guiltily exchanging a glance with Donna. "I've never seen her look lovelier than at Martha's wedding. But about the other thing…"

"What other thing?" Wilf asked. You know…the other thing.

'Here goes.' The Doctor gestured between him and Donna. "About us and the wedding…. Well, I think we owe you both an explanation."

"You don't need to worry about that. We understand how busy you are, travelling about like you both do. I'm very proud of you both," Wilf said kindly. You are a saint!

'I'm amazed…' "You are? I don't know what to say."

"That's a first!" Donna teased. "Though sometimes your mouth is otherwise engaged." You minx! Come here and say that!

He wrapped an arm around her. "You've only done that the once… oh hang on, you made a good job of that in the hotel bedroom," he told her. 'You take my breath away, until all I see is you.'

"Excuse me! You started that; in both cases," she mock argued. Oh yeah? Tell it to the judge.

"Only because you tempt me so, and you know it; and don't try to deny it, I have a naked shower session to prove my point," he countered. Get out of that one, Donna Noble!

"Would you care to explain what the hell is going on?" Sylvia abruptly asked, breaking through their bubble. Oops! Was she there the whole time?

Be careful how you explain this, Donna. "I can explain, Mum," she replied.

Better jump in and help now. "I'm really sorry about our 'marriage'," the Doctor added

"You're married?" Sylvia almost shrieked. What? You didn't know? Seriously?

Quick! Cover it up. "That's not important right now; we thought we'd better come here and put things right about the baby," he told her.

"Baby? When did that happen?" Sylvia really wasn't looking well. You didn't know about that either? Don't you people gossip like normal idiots?

Poor Wilf wasn't looking so chipper either. "Married? And a baby?" he faintly asked. "All without telling us." Oh dear!

"Gramps it isn't like that!" Donna implored him. "There's been a big mistake." Yes, tell them, Donna.

"I'll say there has!" Sylvia yelled at her. 'Hang on, it wasn't our fault.' "The mistake is you thinking you can casually swan in here, announce you are married to that man and then tell us you're pregnant!" You what? That's me you're talking about here! Don't you talk to my Donna like that!

Oh Donna; please don't take her words to heart. "But I'm not! Honestly I'm not. Do you mean Tish didn't tell you we were married; and she didn't say anything about a baby?" she hesitantly asked. Yeah; didn't she?

"No she did not!" Sylvia answered. Oh my gawd! What have I done now?

"Oops!" Donna told the Doctor. My thoughts entirely.

An escape plan; that's what we need. "Any ideas what we do now before I'm torn to shreds?" the Doctor quietly asked her, keeping a careful eye on Sylvia.

"Run?" Donna proposed. Good idea!

I'll save you, darling. "You run; save yourself. I'll hold them off until you are safe," he replied.

"I'm not going without you," she insisted. "We're the two musketeers." You beauty! I knew there was a reason I had chosen you.

"Partners in crime." I just want to love you forever.

"What is it with you two? Oh for goodness sake! Just kiss her!" Sylvia griped. Really? You're okay with that?

So he did. Too bloody right he did! You don't wait for permission twice.


	14. Chapter 15

**A/N:** This is almost the very last one of these… altogether now: "Awww!"

* * *

><p><strong>part 15 [aka Part 5 - the Doctor's POV]<strong>

.

Sylvia had given him permission to kiss Donna! She'd actually said the words he wanted to hear! So he had; repeatedly. Well, he had, until Sylvia had cried out in exasperation, "We get the picture! You can stop now!"

What? Stop now? Just when it was getting interesting? Bugger!

Wilf asking, "When's the baby due?" came from completely out of the blue. Especially as nothing had happened yet to create a baby; nothing beyond a knee tremble and the desire to. Oh hang on… there was all that business at Martha's wedding that was mentioned earlier. It just shows how easily you can forget when you're enjoying yourself. Oh heck! 'How do we explain this one?'

"There is no baby, Gramps. We…" Donna looked to the Doctor for guidance in how to handle their non-news, and he felt himself melting in response. 'Don't look at me like that 'cos all I want to do is kiss you again; got to think of something to say, fast! Anything beyond the baby-making process, unless I fancy regenerating at any moment.'

Wilf shook his hands in the air at him. "No, no need to explain. We all get false alarms like that." Ooh, a false alarm! That'd work as an excuse; pretty well in fact. It'd give him plenty of time to work on the actual…erm… act, as it were.

The next thing they knew Wilf and Sylvia had offered to fetch something bubbly to celebrate and had bustled off.

Donna leant in to quietly asked the Doctor, "What on earth are you playing at, you idiot? They still think we are married. Shouldn't we put them right?" But… but….Donna! Wifeypoohs! I like the thought of being married to you!

"Don't you see, they think it and they still like the idea! Who'd have guessed that? Your mum is actually acting as though she likes me. Can't we keep this up until we have our pretend divorce…? I mean, if she is going to go back to hating me, can't I have some time when she doesn't?" he pointed out in a whisper. Please? 'For me? I iso/i want this to be true… if only for a little while.'

"Okay, I'll keep to the story… for now; but don't expect me to extend it to having a house with a dog or anything. Just be aware how much hatred will be coming your way when we announce our 'divorce'," she warned him. Divorce? 'Surely you are joking? Why would you ever want to divorce me?'

"Depends what reason I divorce you, surely," he mused, hoping to nip that little idea in the bud.

She huffed angrily at him. "You what? If anyone is doing the divorcing it'll be me, Sunshine! I'll probably be able to cite you running after young women at the drop of a hat," she told him, waggling an index finger in his face. 'Technically you're a young woman too; an incredibly young woman compared to me…'

Yep, definitely bud-nipping time. He grabbed hold of the offending finger. "Yes, just think; the last woman I ran after had ginger hair and a curvaceous figure. I really ought to avoid them in future. Especially as she threw herself at me whilst wearing a wedding dress. Do you think she was giving me a subtle hint?" He added in an eyebrow waggle and placed a tender kiss on her wrist. He'd have worked his way onto other parts of her body, but they were in company! Company that he was suddenly keen to impress.

"You prawn!" she murmured, and leant forward to kiss his lips. Ooh, he could get used to this! And he wouldn't need a great deal of persuasion. Not if Donna was going to kiss him at every opportunity; and that thought gladdened his hearts.

Wilf brought them back into the room. "Aye, aye, they're at it again, Sylvia!" Wilf declared as he placed some fizz on the coffee table as Sylvia set down some glasses.

'Oh my goodness! This is really happening! They're actually pleased I've married Donna; even if it is in a totally non-wedding sort of way… I wonder if I can manage to arrange it for real. Just so that they won't be disappointed, obviously, and not for self-serving ways.' "To the happy couple!" Sylvia and Wilf toasted Donna and the Doctor, much to their deep embarrassment.

The Doctor thought that was going to be it in the embarrassing stakes, until Wilf asked, "Tell us about your wedding. How long ago did it happen?"

Donna was no help; not that he expected her to jump in and rescue him with the lie. In a panic he decided to go for a half truth. "We chose a gloriously sunny day," the Doctor began, and basically related the 'wedding' that had taken place on the rooftop overlooking St Paul's Cathedral. He desperately hoped it sounded romantic and completely impulsive. It was the wedding he would love to provide him and Donna after all.

Not that he would expect her to wear the same dress. Hopefully she'd choose one that was just as revealing... erm... lovely on her. All he had to do was coerce Donna into letting him make it come true for them.

~o~

His chance came much sooner than he would ever have thought possible! Perhaps the universe didn't have it completely in for him after all? And all thanks to the actions of one Donna Noble in rescuing a small boy called Matthew from a Graske in eighteenth century Canterbury. Because, let's face it, if you are going to rescue the relative of someone famous and influential there aren't many people it would be better to choose than the Archbishop of Canterbury when you want to get married in a hurry. Not that they had a pressing need to marry in a hurry, because of the whole best-mates thing they had going on, rather than bonking-mates that would have been nice if it had been offered… Must stop thinking about bonking now; quite soon would be nice…

Seeing his chance to make his dreams come true, the Doctor had ambled up to the Archbishop to ask, "How is your nephew Matthew now, your Grace?"

"The boy is fine thanks to the actions of your wife, Doctor," his Grace had answered pleasantly.

"Ah! About that, your Grace. Donna isn't my wife," the Doctor readily admitted. He scratched nervously at the back of his neck. "The thing is… I wish she was my wife, but our circumstances have made it a bit awkward."

"Awkward?" the Archbishop echoed in interest. "Why are your circumstances awkward? Things did not look awkward between you when you slayed the demons."

He decided to ignore the demons bit for now. "Well, you see, we're both widowed, so it isn't as though there is a proper physical reason why we aren't a couple. Most people assume we are married, but…" He blushed as he tried to think of the right words. "I know she loves me in her way, and I certainly love her in mine. How can I explain this properly? She erm… she won't marry me."

"Would you like me to speak with her?" the Archbishop kindly offered.

"Oh no! No, no, no! She'd kill me if she found out I was talking about her… I mean… about us. If I could arrange things so that all she had to do was turn up I feel sure she'd marry me but she always worries about other people," he tried to explain.

"Come with me into my study," the Archbishop suggested. "I can think of no finer reward for saving Matthew from a demon that to bring about your nuptials."

The Doctor smiled with delight! "If it's no trouble, your Grace," he said as modestly as he could.

The Archbishop scoffed at him. "No trouble at all, my son. It would be my pleasure! We will arrange things for a wedding on the morrow. I cannot have anything standing in the path of true love; especially for one such as you!"

~o~

"I now pronounce you man and wife," the Archbishop declared to the congregation of Canterbury Cathedral.

The Doctor felt himself glow with happiness. Finally, _finally_, she was his! "Hello wife," he uttered, and tilted Donna's face up to kiss her lips.

From the back of the congregation somewhere came a distressed cry. "Doctor!"

No! Surely not! It couldn't be, could it? There, behind several pews, stood a decidedly miffed Rose. What? Now? Of all the misguided, stupid, inconsiderate times she could have shown up…

He heard Donna moan, "Oh great! I'm back on the substitute bench." She tried to release herself from his hands; but he wasn't prepared to let go of her so easily. 'Oh no you don't, Donna Noble! You don't get away from me now!'

Time to face the music; so he began to ask, "Rose! How did you...?" But Rose fluttered out of existence before their eyes. 'No, it can't be true! I refuse to believe it's true!' Was it a demon in disguise?

"An angel has appeared before us, and spoke your name, Doctor. Your union is truly blessed," the Archbishop stammered out. Blessed, cursed, it all boiled down to the same thing at times; especially where Rose Tyler was involved. 'Why now, Rose? Why choose now?' He wanted to pull his hair out in frustration. He was so close to what he wanted; so bloody close! And it might have just been all ruined.

Donna tried to pull away from him again. "That's not the word I'd use. It's alright, Doctor, you don't have to tell me. I can make my own way back home," she told him in a resigned voice, and his hearts bled for her. Why did the universe keep doing this to her?

He was determined to hold on tightly to her. How else could he make her understand? She was the one he wanted; she had been for longer than he cared to admit. "I don't think you do understand, Donna. You are my wife now, it's official! And that…," he pointed to where Rose had stood, "was a passing fancy." 'Please believe me, Donna! Please! I need you!'

She exclaimed in retaliation, "And you are such a liar! If she can do that once she can do it again; and then I'll be officially out on my ear; so don't pretend with me. At least I got as far as saying the words this time before I lost my husband to another woman." She sounded so bitter to his ears.

He'd have said anything at that moment to stop her leaving him; done anything, absolutely anything in the universe to keep her by his side where she belonged. "Donna! I've waited centuries to do this," he told her, crushing her body onto his. It didn't matter that he was exaggerating slightly, and normally she would have questioned him about it. Thank goodness she didn't pick up on the time scale.

"Waited for what?" she had asked instead.

He answered by pressing his lips onto her's passionately. "Waited to make you mine," he whispered.

It was only later that he found out from the Archbishop that Rose reappeared seconds later with the help of the Graske. She was angry beyond words and had disappeared, unseen by them, with a face like thunder.

His only concern had been Donna. He hadn't been completely convinced by the image of Rose and had guessed the involvement of the Graske in this prank. But on one level he was glad it had happened; because he now knew that Donna meant more to him than anyone had for a very long time. He loved her with all his hearts, and aimed to love her in the near future with his body.

Bring on the wedding night!

~o0o~

**To be concluded**


	15. Chapter 16

**A/N:** Now with extra added "best-friends-oblivious-to-how-much-they-love-each-other kissage!" [term courtesy of **nipponophile**] is the final Wedding story.

* * *

><p><strong>Part 16 - Wedding Zone<strong>

.

The TARDIS materialised on Roald Dahl Plass, and the Doctor immediately bound out and headed for the hidden lift for the Hub. He jittered about on the step as it descended; he just couldn't control his excitement.

Without waiting for the lift to stop, he jumped off and strode into the Torchwood office space. To his dismay Jack wasn't there. Looking up he saw several office windows, and he noticed sitting by one of the Torchwood monitors was Jack, his head dipped in concentration as he perused a file. Visually following the supporting beam, the Doctor found a set of stairs and sprung into Jack's office.

"Jack! Guess what!" the Doctor practically yelled at him. "I have news about me and Donna. We're married!"

"Yeah? So what," Jack casually replied. "We found that out ages ago."

The Doctor pouted at him angrily. "No you didn't," he insisted. "That was all a farce. But it's the truth now."

"Is it?" Jack still didn't look very impressed as he glanced up at the Doctor from his paperwork. "I know you think I don't have very much to do, but could you go and pester someone else with your non news?"

"Fine!" the Doctor huffed angrily, and marched out of Jack's office.

Jack sighed and got up out of his chair. "Doc! Come back!" he called out. He leant against the doorframe. "I'm sorry about the greeting but I'd heard you might be calling in, I'm snowed under, and I'm tired," he apologised as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose in emphasis.

"Who told you I might be calling in?" demanded the Doctor.

Jack chose to ignore the petulant glare. "We double checked your wedding story straight after I last saw you, and we found the two of you quite easily. I assume you meant it to be so easy, _Doctor Noble_," he added with a teasing grin. "I'm surprised you didn't use Smith."

The Doctor gave a defensive sniff. "Donna didn't want me to use Smith so we chose Noble. It's not impossible to share the same surname."

"Of course it isn't," agreed Jack. "You must have called in a favour or two to get hitched in Canterbury Cathedral though. Where is Donna by the way?"

"Oh, she's just finishing having a long warm soak in a hot bath to ease her muscles," the Doctor replied offhandly. He went to add something else and then immediately pinked up to Jack's delight.

"Over exerting ourselves, were we?" he cheekily asked. "I could always come and give her a special massage if you like. I have very good hands."

"I'm well aware how good your hands are, Jack!" the Doctor retorted. "No, there should be no need for that from you. She erm… she has very particular tastes, I mean, views about men touching her. "

"Does she?" Jack asked with interest as the Doctor blushed even more. "Anything that you'd care to share?"

The Doctor adjusted his collar. "I knew this would be a mistake to do on my own," he admitted.

"Missing her already? Oh how sweet!" Jack jibed him.

"We were going to invite you out to a meal with us, but if you want to get on with your paperwork…," the Doctor vaguely offered, keen to get away from the teasing.

Jack took hold of the Doctor's sleeve. "Oh no you don't! You don't get away from me that easily." He regarded the Doctor closely then. "You look different. What have you been doing to yourself?" he asked.

"Nothing!" the Doctor quickly replied. "Just going out getting myself married," he added, clearly chuffed with himself.

"Yes, that would do it," Jack agreed with a chuckle. "Now why did you come and personally ask me rather than just phone?"

The Doctor averted his gaze and fiddled with a pen he found. "I thought I'd use my time to collect you and…" He lifted his gaze to ask, "See if you wanted to help me cook?"

Jack burst into laughter. "You? Cook! This I have to see!"

"I'm not completely useless in the kitchen," the Doctor angrily retorted.

"Sure! If you don't mind it served up on burnt toast," Jack replied.

"I'll have you know I've dished up several delectable meals for Donna," the Doctor insisted.

"Look, what you do with Donna is between the pair of you, unless you fancy a threesome of course." Jack added a cheeky wink for good measure.

The Doctor huffed angrily. "Will you help me rustle up a meal worthy of my wife? Yes or no? Because if it's too much trouble…"

Jack couldn't resist chuckling at him. "Fine! I'll help you; if only to see you in a flap over cooking a meal for someone," he replied.

"She isn't just someone," the Doctor insisted.

"I'm beginning to realise that," Jack answered, and reached for his coat.

~o~

"Are the prawns defrosted properly, have the steaks cooked enough, has the mousse set, and did you cool the wine?" the Doctor fired questions at Jack.

"Yes!" Jack yelled back at him. "Now once and for all would you calm down? This isn't MasterChef!"

The Doctor opened his mouth to answer, but he was interrupted by Donna calling out, "Can I come in yet? I'm beginning to wonder if I've been sent to Coventry and not Cardiff."

Jack threw the Doctor a supportive glance. "Yes Donna! We're ready for you now," he called back.

"Thank goodness for that," Donna remarked as she entered, looking stunning in a low-cut black dress. "My stomach thinks my throat has been cut."

To Jack's increasing amusement the Doctor bounded up to her like an enthusiastic schoolboy. "We'll soon have you feeling full; I mean less hungry," he gushed, taking hold of Donna's arm and guiding her to a seat. "You look gorgeous tonight," he whispered close to her ear, and rubbed his hands down her back until they rested on her bottom. "And I want to show you exactly what that dress is doing to me."

Donna wove her arms around his neck. "I think I can accurately guess, you saucy Spaceman!" she told him in sultry tones, lifting her face just enough for him to take the hint and kiss her. She hungrily kissed him back, groaning into his mouth.

Jack gave a polite cough. "When you two have finished eating each other, do you think we can start on the food? We don't want it to get cold after all the effort we put into it," he reminded them.

He noticed that the Doctor kept a possessive hold of Donna, and all sorts of plots ran through his mind. He shamelessly smirked at them both. "Jack!" the Doctor immediately admonished him, and Donna peeled with laughter.

Pulling out the chair for her, Jack asked, "Why don't you tell me how you bagged a wedding with the Archbishop of Canterbury Cathedral? Was blackmail involved?"

Donna took the offered seat, and sat down. "You could say that," she replied enigmatically.

"I would have described it as kidnapping," the Doctor remarked, settling plates of food down onto the table. When Donna quirked a questioning eyebrow at him, he replied, "You ran off with my hearts."

Donna beamed in response, but Jack had an overwhelming urge to gag! He wasn't sure he was ready to cope with a romantic Doctor.

~o~

"Mum! I have news," Donna spoke softly.

"You'll have to say it a bit more convincingly than that," the Doctor remarked. He stretched out on the bed and grinned at her reflection.

"I know!" she playfully griped at him, looking over her shoulder. "You could always say it for me?" she half asked him, turning to saunter closer to the bed. "After all, you _do_ have a winning way with words."

"And you are trying to bribe me with your body," he replied, holding out his hands to tenderly draw her down next to him. "Or should I say tempt? It all depends on whether you will deliver or not."

She leant in to kiss his lips. "I thought I always delivered. But if bribery is what you are after, then yes, I think that can be arranged." She pressed more firmly against his mouth, and his hands flew up to hold her head in place.

"Can we discuss terms later? Only somethings are a bit more pressing," he murmured before capturing her lips once more and rolling her body onto the bed beneath him.

"Okay, we'll sign a whole bloody contract if necessary," she agreed breathily. "I can tell something else has come up."

"Can you?" he asked as he fought to undo the fastening of her bra.

"Funnily enough, yeah," she answered, releasing the buckle of his trouser belt.

He grinned wolfishly at her. "Allons y," he declared with a whoop of joy, and allowed her to deal with the finer details.

~o~

Wilf answered the door when they knocked. His look of sheer delight instantly made their day. He hugged them both tightly and then ushered them into the kitchenette. He did a hop, skip and a jump as he ran to put the kettle on. Chattering on, he informed them that Sylvia had just popped out, that he'd been round to see Netty and he'd bought fresh supplies of biscuits on the way home.

It was as Wilf brought the tea over to the table that he thought to consider them properly. There was a glow about Donna and the Doctor; an extremely happy glow as they instinctively leaned toward each other. This was confirmed by the sight of their hands clasped firmly together. Expecting some exciting news, Wilf asked, "Do I take it that you've got something to tell us?"

"Well," Donna replied, glancing briefly at the Doctor. "The thing is… we sort of got married properly, and the service was performed by the Archbishop of Canterbury."

Wilf looked stunned. "The Archbishop of Canterbury? How did you do that? Will it be on the six o'clock news?" he asked as he sat down.

"I doubt it," Donna scoffed. "Getting married in 1768 is hardly going to hit the headlines, is it? But the ceremony was payment for services rendered." The Doctor giggled mischievously at that. "Oi! Saucy! Don't start that again." She swatted at his leg. "I didn't mean services in that way."

"I should hope not," he replied, grinning broadly at her. "I don't think they give out rewards for cradle snatching."

"Oh for the love of… For the last time, Matthew wanted to meet YOU, not ME!" she huffed in his face.

"Are you sure? I think you are underrating yourself, wife!" he gave her another mischievous grin and grabbed both her hands.

"Listen 'ere, husband! I know my value very well," she retorted.

"Oh, I don't think you do," he told her, pulling her closer. "Do you know what you mean to me?"

"Head cook and bottle-washer?" she pondered. "Orphan Annie… Spot the Dog?"

He released her hands to cradle her face. "How about lifesaver, partner, lover…" He captured her lips then, moving delicately over her mouth, relishing the feel of her full lips as they shared passionate kisses. Donna very happily reciprocated.

There was a polite cough, and then Sylvia's severe voice. "Are they at it again, Dad? Don't they ever come up for air?"

The Doctor instantly let go of Donna, and retreated to the furthest point on his chair. "Sorry," he spluttered.

"So… Doctor," Wilf tried to refocus things. "Any sign of that great-grandchild of mine yet?"

"I… erm… we're still working on that one, Wilf," admitted the Doctor, blushing with embarrassment.

"Not on my chairs hopefully," Sylvia remarked.

"Mum!" exclaimed Donna in horror, whilst the Doctor had a sudden coughing fit.

Wilf watched all this with glee. "Ain't love grand, Sylvia? I never thought I'd see our Donna married to a man she deeply loved; but I can now die happy," he commented.

"Well I don't know about that…," Donna blustered.

"We're not in love in any way…," the Doctor trotted out at the same time.

Wilf's eyes danced with delighted mischief. "Thought so!"

"Dad! Leave them be," Sylvia admonished him. "Any more teasing from you and that grandchild will begin to look even more like a pipedream." She then laughed at Donna and the Doctor's expressions of mortification.

~o~

"That went well, I thought," the Doctor remarked as he undid the cuffs of his shirt.

"We still didn't own up to having only just got married," she pointed out, "so technically it went badly."

"Oh I don't know," he told her, moving to stand beside her and drawing her into his embrace. "There was a lot of accepting and loving in my direction, so I'd say it was a phenomenal success." He grinned widely and smugly.

"Why am I not surprised you feel that way?" she asked sarcastically. "Talking of 'loving', husband dear, don't take any notice of Gramps. He meant well, but, as you said, things aren't that way between us."

He reached up to catch a stray wisp of hair on her head and removed it from obscuring her face. "Of course not." He brought his lips down to gently kiss across her shoulders. "I can see that." He kissed his way around her neck. "It's crystal clear." His lips swept lightly over hers. "To all and sundry…"

"What is?" she asked vaguely, caught off guard by his actions.

"I dunno. What was the question again?" He pressed his lips to her mouth with more determination, several times.

"I give up. What was it? And who gives a damn?" She eagerly reciprocated.

They undulated against each other, deepening their kisses to taste each other fully. "Not me. Do you fancy some not-loving?"

"Yes please!" she breathed next to his ear.

They continued to 'not love' each other for the rest of the night; and for many nights afterwards.

~-o0o-~


End file.
